Rise
by Oni-Gil
Summary: The war is over, the Autobots victorious. But a young Autobot Seeker will soon discover that there is more to the Decepticon slaves, and to himself, than meets the eye.
1. Nova's World

**A/N: **Xahtonnoj should be acknowledged for being my "idea beta." He asks annoyingly tricky questions and insists on filling plot holes and gives me titles and names.

I wasn't sure about putting a story in first person with an OC, but that's how it came. And hopefully Nova is a worthy character... we've worked hard to make him so.

UNITS OF TIME:

**Klik**: second  
**Cycle:** minute  
**Breem:** five minutes  
**Megacycle:** two-hour unit  
**Orn:** day  
**Orbit:** week  
**Decacycle:** month (ten in a vorn)  
**Vorn**: year (roughly 1.2 human years).  
**Decavorns** (decades),** centivorns **(centuries), and** astrocycles** (millennia).

* * *

**1. Nova's World**

* * *

My earliest recorded memory is the sky. I was a tiny protoform then, my armor soft and malleable. In the memory I lay on my back, feeling Cybertron's hum beneath me, but my thoughts weren't tied to the surface. It was a clear day and above me everything was the purest blue, uninterrupted by skyscrapers or clouds. I remember stretching what would eventually become my wings and spreading my arms to embrace that endless blue, and I wanted nothing more than to escape Cybertron's gravity and fly away. That desire was wired into my Spark from then on.

Another thing occurred to me then: a feeling that I was meant for great things. And though that feeling was buried under vorns of mockery, I never quite forgot it.

* * *

My second memory is Prime. "Freedom is the right of all sentient beings," he told me, and that lesson stayed with me too.

* * *

There was a time when I liked my wings. I was proud of them. They made me unique. The other sparklings would stare and they would all gravitate towards me, all wanting to be me.

But all protoforms grow up, and as the vorns passed we learned what my wings were. Their creators told them what my anomalies _meant_ and their admiration turned to disgust.

The first thing I did was have the twin red sigils painted onto my now-hated wings. It made no difference to them—they saw only the wings and not the insignias they bore—but to me, it was necessary. It was proof that I was an _Autobot_. I was a citizen of Iacon and the Prime's ward. I was no slave.

When it became clear that my efforts were in vain, I begged Optimus for permission to reformat my frame, to exchange my disgusting scarlet optics for blue ones. But Optimus Prime wouldn't allow it. "You were Sparked that way," he said, and that was that.

"_You were Sparked that way."_ I hated that phrase. I was Sparked a freak. I was Sparked with the frame of a Decepticon. I was Sparked looking like a slave.

I matured into adolescence hating the Decepticons more than the average Autobot. To me, it was their fault that I looked the way I did.

Optimus disagreed. He always treated slaves as equals. It was humiliating.

The Decepticons were inferior to Autobots. They were second-rate, barely more than drones, and existed to serve Autobots. Astrocycles ago they had attempted an uprising and had been put down.

My hatred for the Decepticons ran deep in my Spark, but I restrained my hostility around Optimus. I had lived with the Prime for as long as I could remember. He never mentioned my creators, but said that he had promised to raise me well.

There was no mech I held in higher regard than Optimus Prime. Despite his strange ideas about Decepticons, I loved him as my own creator. He was a just ruler and the wisest mech I knew. Under his guidance, Cybertron flourished. Though he had many duties, he was never too busy to spend time with me.

That wasn't to say that I couldn't be annoyed with him if he were being insufferable, as he was now. He had called me to his study and watched me with that considering look that made my Spark sink. Whatever he was going to say, I wouldn't like it.

Sure enough, he said the words I had been trying to pretend would never come.

"It is time you learned to fly."

"What?!" I yelped.

"Those wings aren't just decoration," he pointed out. I tried pleading my case with logic.

"No Autobot _flies_."

"That isn't true."

"I don't _want _to fly. _Decepticons_ flew. I already have enough trouble with this frame."

Optimus said the other words I had been dreading: "You were Sparked that way. I've already arranged for you to be taught."

I scowled. "By who?" Optimus hesitated. I shot to my landing struts, optics flaring in fury. "I'm not taking instructions from a slave."

"You're going to learn," Prime said patiently, "so you may as well learn from the best. The Aerialbots live far from Iacon, and a Seeker is different from other fliers. Your teacher is the most skilled flier I've ever seen."

"But I _can't_ take orders from a Decepticon!"

"You can," Optimus said, stern now, "and you will. You will be respectful."

"But I—!"

"He is your teacher, like any of your instructors at the Academy. You may not order your way out of lessons. Now, follow me."

I let my irritation radiate freely, dragging my pedes and scowling sulkily at everyone we passed. We descended to the slaves' quarters, walking through dim halls inhabited by wretched mechs with faded purple sigils. Sullen scarlet optics tracked us from the shadows. The closest mechs bowed to Optimus, but the others didn't bother.

Optimus paused at a door and knocked. I shook my head—why knock when he could simply enter a code?

The mech who answered was disconcertingly similar in build to me. His color scheme had once been vivid red and white, but the paint had faded to almost grey over vorns of neglect. He was designed for maximum efficiency in the air, all aerodynamic curves and smooth plating, and his wings were sleek. He was much smaller than Prime, nearly as small as I. In my adult frame, I would stand a head taller at least. His mouthplates were set just short of a sneer in a thin, elegant face. He held himself with confidence, looking us over coolly with no signs of deference to his master. His entire manner exuded arrogance. I bristled as the bold crimson gaze swept over me.

"Well?" he demanded, his voice high and hoarse, as though he had a damaged vocalizer.

"Nova is ready to fly," Optimus said, outwardly oblivious to my glare.

"It's about time," the Decepticon answered. His optics held cool condescension as he looked me over. "You've put it off long enough."

I wanted to snap at him or strike him for his impudence, but didn't dare. Prime didn't reprimand him either. "Nova, this is Starscream. Your instructor." He turned back to the Seeker and I frowned. He hadn't introduced _me_. Slaves were expected to know their master's family, but Optimus was always treating the Decepticons like people.

I focused in time to see Optimus giving something to Starscream. It looked like the permit he'd given me on the way down, but with more to scroll through. "A temporary flying permit," he said. "Only effective when Nova is with you." Starscream held the datapad like a priceless treasure as he absorbed its contents.

We took a shuttle to the outskirts of Iacon. I was still annoyed with Optimus, but secretly I felt a tingle of excitement in my fuel lines. I was going to _fly_. I was going to defy gravity, escape from the comforting safety of Cybertron's surface. How many of my classmates could do that?

Optimus saw us off the shuttle and gave me one last lecture about obeying my instructor before bidding us farewell. I felt horribly abandoned as the shuttle left, but I schooled my expression into aloof unconcern before turning to face my unwanted companion. I would take his instruction, but I was still ten thousand times his superior. The red symbols on my wings were all the proof I needed.

But the look was wasted, because the Seeker was already walking away and I had to hurry to catch up.


	2. Starscream

**A/N:** Within the context of this story, an "orn" is the Cybertronian day; an "orbit" a week; a "vorn" a year.

* * *

**2. Starscream**

* * *

A breem into the first lesson, I decided that Starscream was easily the most impudent slave I'd ever been trapped with. When we reached the open area, he stopped and faced me, arms crossed.

"Listen closely," he said. "I'm doing this for Prime, not you, but my respect for him has its limits. So does my patience with sparklings. I have the high ground in this skirmish. I know what I'm doing and you don't, so you'll do as I say."

Of all the impudence! I clenched my fists in an effort to curb my temper. _What would Optimus do?_ Optimus would probably cater to his every whim.

Still, Starscream had a point. Whether I liked it or not, he had power over me. Considering I was to spend a great amount of time in the air with Starscream as my only safety net, I had no choice. There were ways to assert my superiority short of open rebellion. I would do what he said, but I wouldn't like it. I nodded. My glare didn't affect him; he countered with an infuriatingly knowing smirk.

I didn't leave the ground for a few orbits, though now that I _had_ to learn I was eager to try. Starscream flew first, and I was forced to endure the sight of him darting into the sky, soaring, twirling, looping, barrel-rolling, light flashing off of his faded armor. When he landed, his optics were bright. It must have been his first flight in vorns, maybe even astrocycles. I couldn't imagine what he must have felt, but it didn't matter. He was a Decepticon. Decepticons weren't programmed to _feel _like Autobots were.

A few orbits into our daily lessons, we were hailed by a security squad. The mech in charge sternly ordered Starscream to the ground, guns trained on his descending form. He demanded to know what we were doing and in return I databurst the contents of my permit to him. He turned to Starscream, extending a hand. Starscream sneered at him, unafraid of the ion blasters still aimed his way, but handed over his permit. The security mech looked suspicious, but he couldn't deny the Prime's seal. He gave it back and flicked his hand distastefully.

"Keep within the borders," he ordered, casting a disdainful optic over Starscream. The three transformed and drove off. The Decepticon watched them go with undisguised loathing written over his faceplates before turning to me as if nothing had happened.

"Shall we?"

As the orbits passed, my flying grew steadier. I stopped worrying about the ground far below. In place of the fear came delight—this was _wonderful_! I'd never felt so free in my life. If it hadn't been for the need to refuel, I doubted that I would ever have come down.

Starscream stayed beside me, physically supporting me the first several times I left the ground. I grew to grudgingly respect his skill in the air, even to trust his taloned hands, which caught me when I fell or repaired my circuitry after I crashed. These crashes, fortunately, grew less frequent. I never enjoyed hauling myself out of craters.

Starscream had the irritating habit of looking me straight in the optics. Optimus's soft treatment had made him bold indeed if he thought he could stare at an Autobot. Most would have beaten him. Unfortunately he wasn't mine to punish.

Once Starscream didn't meet me at our usual training ground. Incensed, I troubled myself to descend to the slave quarters and pound on his door (Optimus had never given me the override code). When he answered I was startled in spite of myself. He was grimier than usual, scuffed and dirtied. There was a dent in the side of his helm and his cockpit was cracked.

"What happened to _you_?" I asked automatically, and then, lest I should sound concerned, I added, "You look like slag." He looked down his nose at me, optics flaring in irritation. "Mouth off to the wrong mech?"

His expression looked remarkably like a pout. "No lesson today. Go away before I say something I'll regret," he muttered.

"You're either brave or stupid."

I'd expected a glare, but he surprised me with a lopsided smirk.

"Or insane, which becomes more and more a possibility. Now go away."

* * *

Under Starscream's tutelage, I grew into my birthright and soon took to the air with ease. I responded to the mutters of my classmates with something else I'd learned from the Seeker: unconcerned contempt. I was above them. I refused to consider the implications when Starscream used that same attitude on me. He was a Decepticon, lower than slag. I was his superior.

How I survived Starscream those first few vorns is a mystery even to me. I became desensitized to his biting remarks and acidic wit through prolonged exposure. Not an orn went by that I didn't hear his rasping voice complaining about something, uncaring of who heard him.

As I matured, I began to venture further from my comfortable home and mingle with others. Not only was I introduced to a variety of Autobots but also to a variety of Decepticons. Most slaves were weak, stunted creatures missing plating, optics, even limbs. They were as silent as slaves were expected to be—some had ragged gaps where their vocal processors should have been—but there was hatred in every action.

Every time they disobeyed and insulted their Autobot masters, they were beaten. Pain fueled anger, leading to disobedience. Prime's slaves were different. Ironically, Optimus' soft treatment made them more docile, rather than more rebellious.

When I mentioned this to Prime, he watched me silently for a long moment. I couldn't read his expression behind his facemask, and I shifted uncomfortably under his piercing blue gaze.

"What kind of master would you be, Nova?" he asked at last.

I hesitated. Several vorns ago I would have been just like those other mechs. I'd considered ripping out Starscream's vocalizer myself more than once in moments of frustration. Now I wasn't sure. I thought of the way Starscream acted around the other Autobots, then compared it to the way he behaved towards Optimus.

"Your kind," I answered finally. "It's better to be respected than feared."

"In my experience, a kind word is better incentive than all the electrowhips on the planet." He retracted his mask and smiled. My Spark stirred in pride; Optimus' smile meant more to me than a hundred words of praise. "Remember that, Nova."


	3. Master

**3. Master**

* * *

The orn after my conversation with Prime, Starscream pronounced me of sufficient aerial skill to discontinue our daily lessons. "But that's only the tip of the iceberg." I had no idea what an iceberg was, but I got the idea. "There's more I can teach you, if you'll deign to show up every so often."

It seemed I wasn't as free of Starscream as I'd hoped, for during the following orbits he seemed to be everywhere I went, with the exception of my private quarters. I did my best to ignore him, but curiosity finally got the better of me. I cornered him on the site of our most recent "coincidental" run-in, the streets just outside of the Academy.

"Why are you still here?" I demanded of him. "Don't you have duties to attend to?"

He stared at me for a klik, then proceeded to laugh. I scowled, missing the joke. When he was through, his face was still lit with amusement. "You _are_ my duties."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Didn't Prime tell you?" I shook my head and he quirked an optic ridge. "I'd hate to spoil the surprise. Why not ask him?"

* * *

Optimus blinked his optics once. "Because he's yours," he said. I must have looked as astonished as I felt.

"What… _mine_?"

Prime nodded. "He's belonged to you since you were a sparkling."

"Wh… but why?"

"I gave him to you the orn you were Sparked."

"But…" I stammered. That didn't really answer my question, but Optimus could keep his secrets when he wanted to. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"What use would a protoform have for a slave? Think, Nova. How would you have treated Starscream?"

I opened my mouth to speak, remembered the beaten, hate-filled Decepticons bound to other Autobots, and closed it again.

"You see?" Optimus went on. "You've grown. To hold another mech's life in your hands is a grave responsibility. Our conversation three orbits ago showed me that you are now mature enough to take on that responsibility. I'm not asking you to change immediately… only remember that, though they wear a different symbol and have optics of a different color, Decepticons are as Cybertronian as you."

* * *

"You might have told me," I accused Starscream later.

To which he replied in his usual insolent manner: "Why, so I could have spent the past twenty vorns fetching you rust sticks?"

"I don't _need _this," I grumbled. I didn't stop to think that several vorns ago I would have leapt at the opportunity to own a slave to show off to the other Autobots.

Starscream smiled bitterly. "I'm sure you'll find some use for me."

I threw him a dubious look. "You're a Decepticon. What do you have to offer?"

"Don't think of me as a slave, but as a teacher. I'm not finished with you. There's much more I can teach you, if you'll believe me."

"What can you teach me that I can't figure out for myself?" I scoffed. "I have the Academy for that."

He fixed me with a smirk and raised an optic ridge. "If you hear only one side of a story, you'll never know the truth," he responded cryptically.

"I know the truth," I growled, unsettled. I had the only side of the story that mattered. "I don't need you twisting it."

Starscream turned away with a shrug. "When you get curious… just ask."

* * *

Eventually I began to notice things.

It started with Starscream. I saw more of him than any other Decepticon—than any other mech, once I thought about it. The way even his smirks had moods: the pleased smirk, the amused smirk, the ever-infuriating "I know something you don't know" smirk. The way his optic shutters were constructed, a design to shield the sensors from high-altitude sunlight, which gave him slanted, elegantly curved strips of metal just above his optics. The glyphs engraved into his helm and along the upper edges of his wings, spelling out what made Starscream who he was: speed, agility, freedom.

Over the vorns all his quirks and habits became familiar. I learned something of his history through his words and actions, scattered references to a far-gone time. I learned of his wingmates, Thundercracker and Skywarp, closer than family. I couldn't imagine being completely connected to two others, much less being separated from them. I also heard the designation Skyfire, though this character in Starscream's past remained shrouded in mystery for some time. And occasionally he referred to another mech. He never let slip even a name and always fell silent nano-kliks after alluding to him.

"If _he_ were here," he would murmur to himself, or "I wonder what _he _would think of that…"

Then, to my utter horror, it was the other Decepticons. I began to recognize them, to remember their designations and personalities, though I didn't care in the slightest, absolutely not. Where once they appeared as formless grey blobs, my optics grew to see that they were as diverse as the Autobots in size, shape and altmode. I saw faded colors beneath vorns of grime. Their optics varied in shade, ranging from deep purple to pale pink to nearly orange.

Starscream was right: though I occasionally found some menial task for him, teaching was the most valuable service he had to offer. He showed me complex aerial maneuvers and instructed me in the ways of Seekers, despite my protests that this knowledge was useless. He never repeated his offer to tell me what the Autobots allegedly had to hide, but I didn't forget it. "When you get curious," he'd said… slag, _anyone _would be curious after that.

Having Starscream as a near-constant presence wasn't as aggravating as I feared. He would complain mightily and do as he pleased, to a point… but if I told him to be quiet, he didn't speak a word, and if I told him to leave me alone, he vanished until I sought him out.

I graduated from the Academy on schedule, if not at the top of my class then at least in the highest tier. My lines were humming in excitement all decacycle, and not just because I was finally free of that hated campus with all its scornful classmates and snobbish instructors. I was eager to get this ceremony over with. Optimus had promised that I would then be upgraded into my adult form. A real body at last, one not towered over by Prime and Ironhide and Starscream, one worth caring for and modifying.

A decacycle before graduation, I went with Optimus and Starscream to choose my new body. Ratchet, one of Prime's close friends, would oversee the transfer. I had met him several times, and despite my general aversion to medics, I liked him. He never treated me like a sparkling. Even better, he'd never remarked on my wings or my optics.

Optimus and Starscream stopped outside. When I looked back in confusion, Prime said, "He's waiting inside."

"You're not coming?"

"Make yourself who you want to be," Optimus answered. "It will be easier without us looking over your shoulders."

Ratchet was waiting when I entered, red-and-white arms crossed over his windshield, one pede tapping impatiently. "_There_ you are," he said when he saw me. "You're late."

"Traffic," I said.

"You've got wings, use them. No traffic in the air but drones." He beckoned me to follow him. "Given any thought to your new body?"

I had. It had been an endless back-and-forth argument in my processor. For much of my life I would have given anything to be like everyone else: wingless, wheeled, groundbound. If it meant an end to the staring, the muttering, the utter humiliation of being a Seeker, I would have swapped this form for that of a normal Autobot in a nano-klik. If it meant separating myself from the slaves, disposing of my accidental resemblance to a Decepticon, I would have done it.

And yet…

Now I knew flight. I had fired up my thrusters and shot into the air, sliced through clouds with ease. These wings of mine had felt wind rushing over and under them. They had caught the subtle currents of Cybertron's atmosphere and carried me into the sky. Could I give up _that_ for the sake of opinion? Could I keep myself tied to the surface forever?

The same questions had chased themselves around and around in my processor for vorns. It would be impractical to take wheels now that I'd learned to fly. _But I could adapt. _Optimus would disapprove. _But he would understand. _Starscream would disapprove. _But who cares?_

_Make yourself who you want to be. _But who _did_ I want to be?

By the time we reached Ratchet's workshop, I came to a decision. It was less logic than gut feeling, but after all, my mind could change someday. My Spark wouldn't.

"I'd like a Seeker model, please."

* * *

While I was offline, I dreamed. Sometimes a mech's processor ran active during recharge, flitting half-conscious through old memory files or spilling nonsense patterns from imagined optic images. Perhaps because my processor had been roiling with thoughts of flight, I dreamed of the sky, endless blue with gold-pink clouds scudding across it.

When I emerged, I took great satisfaction in seeing their faces: Prime's smiling, the mask retracted, so proud that it warmed my Spark; Starscream's shocked at first before sliding into a knowing smirk.

"Not even blue optics?" he teased.

"It suits you," Optimus soothed. I lifted my chin proudly. In my new form I was taller than Starscream, though still smaller than Optimus. In make and model I strongly resembled Starscream, with enough personal touches to set us apart. I didn't particularly want a bright or optic-catching color scheme, so I had been painted mostly silver, with highlights of intense red. The Autobot sigil held a place of prominence on my wings—that should get their attention. Let them stare. I had made my choice, and I wouldn't turn back.


	4. Changing Times

**4. Changing Times**

* * *

Optimus was right; my new body suited me. Not only did I look different, I _felt_ different. Being taller and stronger felt _wonderful_. All the disbelieving looks, even the disgusted ones, delighted me. Let them look. I was a Seeker, but I was an Autobot. And if they couldn't see that, they didn't deserve to call _themselves_ Autobots.

Though sometimes the looks held unexpected emotions. Some of the older Autobots did double-takes when they first saw me, and watched me strangely later. The same happened to the Decepticons. Perhaps it was the shock of seeing a Seeker wearing the red Autobot insignia. They would stare at me, halting in their work, until I gave them my best haughty glare and they turned away. Even Starscream, though he spent so much time with me that he should be used to it, sometimes looked at me as though he hadn't expected to see me. It was utterly _infuriating_.

When I became fed up with one Autobot too many goggling at me, I stormed down to the slave quarters to demand answers from Starscream. I pounded on the door. "Starscream!"

A moment later. "Nova?"

"Yes. Let me in."

There was a rather suspicious scuffling sound. "Wait a klik."

"Now," I commanded. There was a pause before Starscream opened the door. My initial fear that I had accidentally interrupted an intimate rendezvous was mercifully unfounded, but there was some sort of activity going on at what passed for a desk. I walked over, Starscream just behind me. Various parts and tools were arrayed across the surface surrounding a partly-finished cylindrical object. My Spark skipped a pulse. Surely Starscream couldn't be… "What is this?"

He hesitated, looking from me to the workspace and back. "It's a null ray," he answered finally.

"And what is _that_?"

"A weapon."

My vents stopped their circulation. A _weapon_. Starscream—a Decepticon, a _slave_—was building a weapon. It was unthinkable. It was certainly illegal, violating the first and foremost article of the slave code. I picked it up, noticing that some parts had been cannibalized from Starscream's nonvital systems, while others must have been stolen. These parts… Primus, these _tools_ shouldn't even have been in Starscream's possession. If Starscream could get his hands on these, then what could other Decepticons be stockpiling?

"Slaves aren't allowed weapons."

"I know."

That bold admission! Didn't he realize what it meant? If anyone found out about this, there would be uproar! Slaves with weapons… slaves stealing parts, maybe energon, maybe worse…! Didn't he know the penalty?

"If I were anyone else… slag, if _you_ were anyone else, I'd have you terminated," I told him. He met my optics fearlessly.

"I know."

"Then _why_?" I demanded. "Why are you doing this?"

"In anticipation."

That brought me up short. "Of what?!"

"Well," he said, a bit too innocently, "if anything were to happen, I imagine it would begin in Iacon. Best to be prepared for that sort of thing."

"Don't say that!" I snapped, dropping the null ray back where I'd found it and taking two steps back. Why me? Why, of all mechs, did I own the most impudent, arrogant, fragging _fearless_ slave on all of Cybertron? Why was he telling _me_ this?

"Welcome to reality, Nova," Starscream said. "We won't be slaves forever."

"But that's the way things _are_! Decepticons are slaves, Autobots are masters… that's how it has to be! It's always been that way!"

He shook his head. "It hasn't. That's what the Autobots say to make themselves feel righteous. We weren't meant to be slaves. We were so much more than that, Nova, we _will_ be again!"

"What 'we?!' I'm an Autobot."

He paused, optics flaring irritation, but regained his composure.

"I can tell you everything," he said softly. "Everything they never told you. Everything they lied about or covered up or ignored. Or are you afraid of the truth?"

"I'm not afraid of anything," I responded automatically. I wanted to believe everything the Academy had taught – I _had_ to believe it. What else could I cling to, if everything I had ever accepted about Autobots and Decepticons was a lie?

"The truth may turn everything you think you know upside-down."

"I'm not afraid of anything," I repeated. Starscream smiled and gestured towards the berth, the only surface besides the desk that I could sit on.

"Then I suggest you make yourself comfortable. This is a long story."


	5. Another Side

**5. Another Side**

* * *

They called it the Golden Age. They called it a time of liberty and prosperity, of credits and energon for everyone. And it was fine for some. The upper classes, the wealthy Autobots, the Senate, those mechs who lived in the glittering towers of Iacon or the upper levels of Polyhex. They recharged, went to work, came home to a family and some energon cubes.

They never stopped to think about where their energon came from. They never saw the mines, the dark holes in rocks far from Cybertron, in the outliers. They never saw the miners, filthy mechs who knew only the swing of a pick and the flash of unstable, unrefined energy crystals. They never spent orns down there in the stifling heat, never sure whether the next swing would strike an explosive shard and bury them all, never sure they could scrape enough crystals from the rock to meet their quotas _and_ earn their daily ration. They never lost their jobs to drones, never had to look for an occupation with no experience, no cleanliness, no friends in high places.

For the rich it was the Golden Age. For the powerful, it was an age of corruption, bribery, stockpiling.

For the rest, there was a shortage of energon, a shortage of jobs. There was a dark Altihex, practically a ghost town. There was a crumbling Vos, the ground littered with lifeless frames of fliers who hadn't even had the energon to continue functioning.

And there was Kaon. The unemployed miners came here, the outcast factory or military builds came here; poor mechs from all over Cybertron poured into Kaon's lawless underbelly in search of credits and energon.

Kaon was the capital of Cybertron's criminal underworld. The black market, the bootlegging, the prostitution rings, the arena fights. The only way to _survive_ was to elbow your way into one of these shady establishments. The gladiators of the arena were worshipped by the rest of the lowly, dirty, hungry poor. And one gladiator was better than the rest.

His name was Megatron. He had been a miner on one of Cybertron's moons, before he was replaced by automation. So he had come to Kaon, and he had caught someone's optic, and he had been introduced to the vicious sport of arena fighting. These were no-holds-barred battles to termination—enough to stamp out weaknesses like kindness, pity, or mercy.

Megatron could please a crowd without trying. He had the perfect build: tall and imposing, a powerful tank altmode, well-kept silver armor, scarlet optics. He was a natural fighter, champion of the arena, having slaughtered his way up the ranks, and commanded incredible power. The best fighters clamored to join him, and everyone in the underworld admired him.

There was something _about_ Megatron that made them love him. It was evident whenever they spoke his name in reverent tones. _Megatron will free us,_ they said. _Megatron will lift us to the sky. Megatron will end our hunger._

He saw the corruption of the Senate. He had lived to bear the load while the Autobots ate rust sticks. And Megatron had ideas. He made plans. It started small—thefts, riots, threats. And when the Senate refused to act, it grew. Bombings. Kidnappings. And then it became massive: a planetwide strike for freedom and justice, the liberty of the poor and hungry, Megatron at their head. The Decepticons rose up from the darkness, from the seedy depths, battling the old ways that had driven them down.

It should have been easy. The Autobots should have seen the error of their ways. Surely they could see that the uprising was for the best! Surely they wouldn't stop their counterparts from taking their rightful place in the world. But they did, and so the display of unity became a war, and the war went on.

And on.

For thousands of astrocycles the Great War raged, the Autobots stubbornly refusing to give in. The leaders of the opposing forces, Megatron and Optimus Prime, each believed that his respective faction was in the right. The War eventually drained Cybertron of its resources and the Autobots and Decepticons went out into the galaxy to continue their battle. Countless planets were devastated in the crossfire, scoured of energy sources. The Autobots committed atrocities that the Decepticons had never foreseen.

Circumstances drove the War to a blue planet called "Earth" by its people. Tiny, primitive organics calling themselves "humans." The assistance of the humans was the push the Autobots needed and the Decepticon forces were weakened. They battled each other in the space between Earth and Cybertron, near the Axis cluster.

It was the most devastating space battle of the War. Countless mechs were terminated. Finally a chance shot broke through the shields of the Decepticon flagship, _Nemesis_, and destroyed the bridge along with Megatron… an anticlimactic end, but the universe does enjoy cruel jokes.

Following the Axis defeat, the Autobots claimed victory. They brought the surviving Decepticons back to Cybertron, which had revived over the astrocycles.

Do you know what an astrocycle is? A thousand vorns. Can you imagine an astrocycle? Now imagine ten thousand astrocycles. Ten _million_ vorns of war. The Academy gives it maybe fifty vorns at most… and they never mention Megatron's name.

Just the word gave us hope, once. Now, if an Autobot hears us say it, we'll be beaten to scrap. Because the power that strengthens us frightens them. They're afraid of a ghost.

The Senate reinstated itself after Axis. They pushed the Decepticons down even further than before, making them slaves.

Do you know what it is to be a slave? It's taking the energon you're given because you'll offline if you miss a day's ration. It's taking orders when you don't want to; it's being divided; it's being powerless; it's having wings but being chained to the ground. It's remembering what it was like to be free.

During the War, we were powerful. We had energon, we had identities. We could talk and drink and recharge and fly whenever we liked. But now we have nothing. No chain of command, no trines, no gestalts. The Autobots took every precaution.

But we are strong. We _will_ rise again. All it takes is a memory, a ghost, the whisper of a name.

_Megatron_.


	6. Truth

**6. Truth**

* * *

Starscream complemented his story with databursts, transmitting memories of specific battles as well as the downtime between them, contrasting the monotony and harshness of pre-War survival with the delicious freedom of the War. Through him I felt true hunger for the first time—it was enough fool my systems into sending low energon warnings. He even shared the aftermath of Axis, how he had been separated from his wingmates and put into a crowded brig for the long journey back to Cybertron, before being chained and put on a work crew to rebuild Iacon piece by piece.

I first saw Megatron through Starscream's memory. He was larger even than Prime, a blend of smooth curving plates and jagged edges, a study in gray and red. He was a walking weapon, terrifying and beautiful at once.

In addition I received a torrent of emotions that the older Seeker related to Megatron: fear, awe, reluctant respect, bitterness, resentment, admiration, attraction, revulsion, hatred. I was startled by his vivid memories of Megatron. Processing the databursts he'd sent me—a small eternity in a few kliks – I realized that there was still a great deal that I didn't know about Starscream's past.

Leftover emotions raged in my Spark, a lifetime's worth of hatred directed at the Autobots. It was a dizzying rush of foreign feelings and dangerous thoughts. A weaker mech might have sworn allegiance to the Decepticon cause and vowed to avenge Megatron right there—but these were Starscream's emotions, not mine.

That knowledge didn't help my deeper conflict. What Starscream had told me was completely different from what I had been taught. Part of me wanted to deny it. The other part _knew_ somehow that there was truth in his words and _wanted_ to trust him—to join him.

These two factions waged their own ferocious war inside me. I no longer knew what was true. I no longer knew what to believe. I couldn't trust the Academy. I couldn't trust Starscream. I couldn't even trust _myself_ with such raw emotions destabilizing me.

But there was one mech I _could_ trust.

I stood abruptly and left his tiny room, making my way out of the slave quarters. Every face I saw now had a name attached—Demolisher, Scrapper, Bombshell, more and more Decepticons I'd seen in the memories Starscream had chosen to give me. It only added to my disorientation.

If I'd rejected the depressing gloom of the Decepticon quarters, now the light of the upper levels seemed too bright. A lie. This purity, this light, was a façade—was it, or was that only Starscream planting doubt in my Spark like a virus?

Starscream followed at the very edge of my sensors' range, matching my pace. He stopped outside of Prime's study, leaving me to go on alone.

Optimus was speaking with Ironhide when I entered, a bulky red-and-black groundling, one of Prime's closest friends. He'd had a good-natured relationship with me, once. After my upgrade his attitude had changed: he kept staring at me, jumping when he caught sight of me. Once, he had been so jumpy that he had actually taken defensive action. Starscream, of course, had found it hilarious. I could see nothing funny about being slammed into a wall and staring down the barrel of a very large, very serious-looking cannon until Ironhide apparently realized it was me.

Optimus took one look at my face and his optics flashed with concern. "Would you excuse us, Ironhide?" he asked politely. Ironhide grumbled but didn't seem genuinely annoyed. No sooner had the door hissed shut behind him than I stormed forward and slammed my hands down on Prime's desk. He looked calmly across at me—even seated, he could look me straight in the optics when I was bent forward.

"What's the matter, Nova?" he asked, his patient, deep voice immediately letting some of the tension leak out of my frame.

I didn't tell him about the weapon Starscream was building. Besides that I told him everything, accompanied by several databursts. I could sense his expression darkening into a frown under his mask. When I wound down, he gestured to my usual chair and I sank into it, feeling drained.

"I'm… confused," I finished plaintively. "I want to know the truth. I trust you, Optimus. Tell me what to believe."

He surveyed me over his mask for a moment before retracting it with a sigh. He looked more tired than I'd ever seen him.

"I can tell you the truth," he said, "or as close to the truth as I've gotten... but which story you believe is up to you.

"Much of what Starscream told you is accurate. The Great War did last so long, and Megatron may at one time have believed in justice and freedom. It is true that the Senate was decadent, but not all Autobots were blind to the troubles of the time. Sentinel Prime led the Autobots then. He was critical of the Senate, devoted to law and order. He fought Megatron and his movement and began the War. And yet, if he hadn't fought, Megatron would have covered the planet with his vision of peace, created on the ruins of his enemies."

He sighed again through his vents, his optics distant as he continued. "Megatron... I can't tell you much of his life before. I didn't know him until the War was well under way. He was a natural leader and a powerful fighter. If at one time he fought for freedom and equality, he lost sight of that goal. He never lacked conviction, but his aims changed. Eventually, I believe he fought for the destruction of all Autobots.

"Axis was one of the true tragedies of the War. Many Autobots and Decepticons fought and died in that final battle, including Megatron. My enemy he may have been, but he deserved better. They all deserve better.

"I have seen cruel Autobots and kind Decepticons, terrible things done by both sides. You asked for something to believe. My answer is this: nothing is black or white. Autobots can be evil, Decepticons good. You can never be sure of what others tell you, but you can always be sure of what you feel in your own Spark. Maybe there is no meaning. Maybe none of us is right. Find your own truth, and wherever it takes you, hold onto it."

His words calmed me. "Thank you, Optimus."

"There's something I should tell you about Starscream."

"Something _else_ you forgot to tell me?"

Regret flickered across his face but was gone in a moment. "I'd hoped you wouldn't need to know. But it's for your own sanity…" He chuckled before seriousness was back. "…and your safety. Starscream is sworn under Spark-oath to obey you and to protect your life at any cost, even at the expense of his own."

I stared at Prime. An oath taken during Sparkmerge was the most solemn vow a Cybertronian could take. If Starscream failed to make good on his word, his Spark would burn itself out in an immensely slow and painful termination.

It took two to Sparkmerge. I voiced it awkwardly. "D-did you...?"

"Primus, no."

"Then who did he swear to?"

"That is for Starscream to tell. I respect his privacy and so should you."

I nodded, chastised.

"I hope that I have been able to help you, Nova. Would you send Starscream in, please?"

He offered no explanation, so I asked no questions. Starscream waited just outside.

"You didn't tell me you're bound to me," I said. He flinched, smirk turning into a wary glare.

"What Decepticon in his right mind would give an Autobot that sort of power?"

Something in the way he said it made me scowl. "Prime wants to talk to you," I told him. He huffed and entered the office, the door sliding shut behind him. I turned up my audio receptors.

"What do you want, Prime?"

"I want you to stop this," Optimus said.

"Whatever do you mean?"

"What you're doing to Nova."

"Doing to him?"

"I won't let you turn him into another Megatron."

My Spark stopped. There was a long silence inside.

Finally Starscream spoke again, lazy and unperturbed.

"He was Sparked that way."

* * *

He came out looking triumphant, very much his usual self. I waited until the door shut before confronting him.

"What was that?" I demanded.

"What was what?"

"That. In there."

He arched an optic ridge at me, still smirking. "It's called a 'conversation.' It's what Autobots do when they get bored."

"You know something."

"I know many things."

"You know about _me_," I persisted. "About my creators. Who are they?"

He shook his head and made as though to pass me. I rephrased the request into an order. "Tell me who they are."

Starscream's narrowed optics bored into mine. After a long moment of frowning, his mouthplates twisted the other way, his expression one of delicious, teasing defiance. "I don't think I'll tell you."

"You have to."

"Not if telling you would result in a threat to your life," he replied smoothly, "and since my Spark isn't devouring me from the inside out, I think my logic is sound."

"I'll get it out of you someday," I vowed.

His optics burned even brighter with some private joke.

"Someday."


	7. To Be Whole

**A/N:** Dancinglemur has written several rather silly tidbits in the universe of Rise and is posting them under the title "Rise Crack." I highly recommend that you go dash to her profile page and read it! (Beware of some spoilers.)

* * *

**7. To Be Whole**

* * *

Over the following orbits, I went to learn what I could with my own optics, exploring the city to observe the daily lives of the Decepticons. Like Autobots, they refueled and recharged. They fought among themselves often, with such nonchalance that I grew to understand that it was simply their way. They got by on one or two cubes of energon per day. That wasn't _life_. It was only _survival_.

I read the Axis Decree, which had sentenced the defeated Decepticons to slavery, and the resulting slave code. All my life I'd had a sense of what Decepticons should or shouldn't do—speak when spoken to, don't look your master in the optics—but now I discovered just how many things they _couldn't_ do. They couldn't buy, sell, or trade without special permission; they couldn't travel faster than 30 astros per cycle; they could only gather during certain times of the orn and then under strict supervision; any slave speaking before a group would be executed. In fact, an uncomfortable number of these crimes were punished by execution. There were more model-specific laws—weapons to be dismantled, flight disabled, some of the more formidable alt-modes suppressed, certain abilities removed. The Autobots truly had taken every precaution, right down to splitting up all teams, trines, and gestalts, dispersing them as far as possible.

Decepticons had fuel lines and circuits and plating just like Autobots. Only our ideals separated us. Only minute differences in programming or construction set us apart.

I tried to imagine what it must have been like for Starscream, unable to fly, separated from those closest to him… I couldn't. I tried to imagine living on a cube a day, that burning ache in my fuel tank, but I couldn't. I had never lived that way. I had lived an easy life, uncaring of those beneath me, exactly like the Autobots before the War.

This could not go on. Optimus knew it, Starscream knew it, and now I knew it, too. Something had to change, somehow. Prime trusted that things would reach their natural, inevitable conclusion, given time; Starscream and I had a somewhat more cynical view of the situation. There were some Autobots, perhaps, who believed in Prime's "freedom is the right of all sentient beings" philosophy, but not enough, never enough, and the Senate cared nothing for the Decepticons except as free labor. The Neutrals—I knew nothing of the Neutrals, but I'd always looked down on them with only slightly less disgust than Decepticons. How was I to know their opinion? That left only the Decepticons themselves. No one would come to their aid.

Something had to be done. Someone had to do it.

* * *

Starscream was the key. He was already preparing for an upheaval of some sort. It wasn't enough to have his servitude: I needed to gain his trust. It wouldn't be easy; Starscream wasn't the type to give his trust lightly. I had to find some way to get well into his good graces… and I got an idea.

I had a generous allowance from the Prime, an account full of credits that I hardly used, and a hundred vorns of buildup had left me a small fortune. There was only one problem, but I was counting on Prime's help.

Prime's mask was off when I entered his office. He greeted me, laying aside his datapad. I took my usual seat.

"I'm going to buy two slaves," I told him. The saddened, disappointed look on his face would have broken my Spark if my intentions had been different.

"You don't need my permission," he said softly.

"But I _do_ need your help," I answered, and explained the rest of my plan. By the time I finished, he was smiling.

"Of course I'll do what I can," Prime said. He watched me for a moment. "Only a few vorns ago, you'd never have considered anything of the sort."

I pondered that as Optimus searched the records. I _had_ changed. I couldn't pinpoint the exact date, but since meeting Starscream I had changed, so slowly that I'd barely noticed. I wondered if this was what Optimus had hoped for all along. I wondered if this was what Starscream had intended.

"Here," Optimus said after a time. "Gygax and Praxus. Would you like to download the specifics?"

I uplinked to the console for the rest of the information. "Thank you."

"And I'll take care of everything with the Senate."

I smiled gratefully at him. "Thank you, Optimus."

* * *

I was faster in my altmode, so I transformed as soon as I was out of the city and pushed myself to top speed, enjoying the feeling of wind on my wings. At this velocity, Praxus was three megacycles from Iacon. Long and lonely, especially for a solo flight.

I disliked flying alone. It was part of my Seeker programming. When I flew on my own I was distinctly aware of the gaping void behind me, yearning for wingmates.

But I'd never flown across this territory before, so I had plenty to distract me. Although my altmode had no optical sensors, I could sense the shape of the land below me, the type of metal and the formations and chasms that covered most of Cybertron's surface. I passed high over cities, not wanting to attract too much attention or send anyone into a panic.

I transformed back to bipedal mode as I came into the city-state of Praxus. It didn't look much like the glittering spires of Iacon. The main city was constructed in a regular grid pattern, unlike Iacon's loops and swirls. The streams of traffic were the same, individuals on the streets and shuttles in the air. The mechs themselves were of Praxean make: short, bulky, made for heavy work. The fashion of the moment was a monochrome color scheme.

Overflying the city, I headed for the outskirts. Here dirty, faded mechs worked in lines. Some chopped and pulled metal from the ground. Others carried the extracted metal into a massive building which poured smoke. Faces stared up at me as I passed over, 'cons pausing in their strutbreaking work until their overseers compelled them to continue. It had been a hundred vorns since they'd seen a Seeker in flight.

Upon landing, I was cautiously approached by three or four armed guards. The red sigils on my wings gave them pause. Finally, one of them came forward. He looked like he was desperately trying to hide his terror.

"This area's restricted," he said, attempting to conceal his fear behind a mask of authority… and failing miserably. Praxus was poor, and I looked rich… I could use that to my advantage.

"I have business with Axlerod," I answered. "I could go elsewhere, if he doesn't…"

"No, no!" the unfortunate 'bot said quickly. "I'll take you to him right away."

He led me inside the factory. It was blazingly hot and smoky. Seekers' vents were extraordinarily delicate, so I didn't fancy staying in here for very long. It was filled with clanging and crashing sounds. I wished my guide would walk faster.

We went through a door into a corridor filled with clean air and light. I cycled a few grateful intakes, trying not to be too obvious about it, as the mech showed me into a small office and ducked out.

Axlerod was a thick-limbed yellowish mech with wheels on his upper arms enhancing his bulk—his altmode was probably a hefty load-bearing truck of some sort. He had an unpleasant smile, an oily voice, and twitching fingers. After I introduced myself and my errand, a greedy light came into his optics. I was hard-pressed to hide my loathing. When it seemed too much to bear, I looked out of the window behind him at the leaden sky.

"Looking for a slave," he echoed—he had a habit of slowly repeating my words. "Did you have anything special in mind?"

"I'd like a mech who shares my capabilities," I said.

"A flyer, then?" he oozed.

"A Seeker."

"A Seeker," he pondered, sitting back. "Terrible workers, Seekers… no offense meant… distractible. Not built for heavy lifting… terrible attention span… no offense meant…"

"You sound as though you've had some experience."

"Work crew's no place for a Seeker… no offense meant… get them in the berth, no compare… no off—"

I shot up, optics blazing furiously. It wasn't the first time I'd heard this sort of crass humor, but nobody had ever dared to say it to my face. "I can take my credits somewhere else," I snapped. He raised his hands in supplication, and I sat back down, unmollified.

Axlerod sent for the Seeker and spent the next few cycles giving me unsavory tidbits on keeping slaves in line. With each one I felt a growing desire to purge my tank, and I determined to delete each "tip" from my processor at the first opportunity. Before long, mercifully, a guard entered with a filthy grey creature barely recognizable as a mech under the grime. Even so, the shape was familiar from Starscream's databursts. He stared right back at me.

Would anybody ever _not_ look at me like they'd seen a ghost?!

"Designation?" Axlerod asked dispassionately. The Seeker glared without speaking until the guard cuffed him over the helm.

"Skywarp," the 'con answered in a growl.

"Skywarp," Axlerod said, turning to the console and bringing up a file. "A troublemaker. Spends more time in solitary confinement than he does at work. We haven't broken him in yet… but give it time, give it time. Even the strongest will can break under the right pressure."

It felt wrong to haggle over the worth of a fellow mech, especially one who was still in the room. The occasional casual reminder that I could take my business elsewhere smoothed the way somewhat. I couldn't let this mech see that I was here for Skywarp specifically.

I parted with a respectable amount of credits.

"And I'll need his thrusters re-enabled," I added when the deal had been sealed.

"You're letting him fly?"

"Are we supposed to _walk_ back to Iacon?" I replied acidly, finished being polite.

I waited for several breems in the corridor outside the scrap heap that passed for a medbay until Skywarp hobbled out.

"Perhaps we'll be doing business again sometime…?" Axlerod ventured. I gave him my best haughty Starscream glare.

"We'll see." _Like the Pit we will, slagface._

As soon as we were out of that building, Skywarp and I took stock of each other. Under the grease and grit, his washed-out purple-and-black paint was marred by patches and weld lines. The metal of his wrists was fractured and dented. Seeing where I was looking, he sneered at me.

"Didn't you hear Slagface? I spent lots of time in the stasis cuffs." He coughed through his vents, which were probably clogged from a centivorn in that smoke. A good fly should change that. "All the beatings in the world won't 'break' me, just so you know."

"I'm not interested in that," I answered. "My designation is Nova. Come with me. I'll take you to your wingmates."

Skywarp's mouth opened in shock. I unsubspaced a cube of energon and offered it to him.

"Do you think you can fly to Gygax? Can you transform?"

He nodded. "Gygax? You said we were going to Iacon."

"Gygax is where we'll find Thundercracker."

* * *

It took longer to reach Gygax than it had to reach Praxus, mainly because Skywarp's thrusters were still recovering. We reached the city in the second megacycle of the afternoon. I gazed in wonder at the strange domes that comprised much of the city until I remembered that they had been re-crafted by Decepticon slaves.

The warden of the stockade, Surefire, was as opposite to Axlerod as it was possible to be. He stood tall and stern, blue optics shining from a white face, red Autobot insignia on his chest standing out against his blue armor.

"Designation Thundercracker," he mused, his optics dimming as he perused the databanks in his processor. "He's been here for a few decavorns. He was caught skulking after curfew. He's cooling his turbines in here until he gives a satisfactory explanation." He looked at me doubtfully, a hard edge to his mouthplates as he swept his optics across my wings, lingering on the red symbols for several kliks. I'd already shown him the message I'd brought with the Prime's seal. "You're sure he's the one you want?"

"Certain."

Surefire led the way down the lift tube and through dark passages lined with cells, lit only by the dangerous red energy bars. Sullen mechs watched us pass, or rather, watched _me _pass; their stares prickled on my wings. How many of them had committed an actual crime, and how many were in here only for a violation of the harsh slave code?

"He'll come cheap," the warden said. "Technically he's government property—no one wants a rebellious slave."

He stopped before a cell, signaling for the guards. The winged mech inside was only slightly less dirty than Skywarp, faded blue paint peeking out through the accumulated muck. He wore a pair of gleaming stasis cuffs.

"Designation Thundercracker?" Surefire barked. The Seeker looked up, optics glowing deep red. "That's him."

"Excellent," I said. "I'll need his thrusters repaired."

"But he might—"

"Do as I say!" I snapped, angry and frustrated after a long and trying orn of dealing with these mechs.

None of them quibbled with me after that, but performed the necessary transactions quickly. When Thundercracker emerged from the medbay, it even looked as though they'd hurried him through the washracks, though it would take a thorough scouring to get him completely clean.

"Who are you?" he asked, his voice deep and smooth. His optics were equal parts wary and curious.

"My designation is Nova—"

"But who _are_ you?" he repeated. "You look like… but you're an Autobot."

That stung, somehow. "I'm a Seeker," I asserted. "I'm the Prime's ward. Follow me."

We reached the chamber where I'd left Skywarp fidgeting under the watchful optics of the stockade's guards. Thundercracker stopped suddenly. Skywarp's optics widened and he flung himself forward, using his thrusters for an extra boost. They collided with a crash, Skywarp landing on top. He dealt a blow to the side of Thundercracker's helm.

"You fragging bastard! I've been so slagging worried about you, afthead!"

"It's not like I could drop in to see you," Thundercracker answered. "Get off me, you're filthy!"

"I don't _care_! A hundred vorns and _this_ is how you great me?!"

Thundercracker grabbed the back of Skywarp's helm. "No," he growled. "_This _is." He pulled his wingmate down and crushed their mouthplates together. After a klik, I realized I was staring and averted my optics.

"Primus, TC, I missed you," Skywarp gasped when they were done.

"Me too. Now get off me."

* * *

Darkness had fallen and the moons were up by the time we arrived in Iacon. We transformed as we came in towards Prime's spire, the others following my lead… almost like having my own trine, I reflected, and part of my programming mourned the wingmates I might never have.

I saw Starscream waiting on the landing pad. So did Skywarp and Thundercracker. Skywarp gave a wild cry of delight and slammed into him, followed by Thundercracker, and all three of them tumbled wings-over-turbines until they crashed into the wall in a frenzy of hands and wings and excited voices, punctuated by happy clicks and trills when it was too much to process into words.

Finally, they disentangled themselves. Starscream approached me, the strangest expression on his face.

"You," he tried. "Why…?"

"Because…"

I found myself at a loss for words. I didn't often feel the gaps at my sides, but when I did they yawned widely. Instead of saying anything out loud, I clenched my hand over my Spark, Seeker body language approximately translated as "whole," referring to a trine. Understanding glimmered briefly in his optics. Then, unexpectedly, he knelt before me, bowing his head. Thundercracker and Skywarp imitated him, all three Seekers expressing their deepest gratitude. I felt the circuitry behind my faceplates heating up in embarrassment.

"Get up," I muttered, quite flustered. In reuniting Starscream with his trine, I had successfully gained three allies… and perhaps a friend.


	8. Choice

**8. Choice**

* * *

The orn after Thundercracker's and Skywarp's arrival, Starscream dragged them off to the washracks for a thorough cleansing. Optimus put in a word with Ratchet and the medic came, grumbling but businesslike. Thundercracker was better off than Skywarp, for the most part, but upon scanning his CPU Ratchet found several glitches and viruses requiring deletion. Skywarp was functional, but Ratchet insisted on undoing his sloppy patch-jobs to repair him properly.

I set about getting to know Starscream's wingmates.

Thundercracker was the largest of the trine. His optics had none of Starscream's orange tint and none of Skywarp's violet tinge. Facially, he was nearly identical to Skywarp. He was the quietest in voice, but this made him no less noticeable and no less intimidating. His flight engines made up for it with their deep rumble.

He was also the most even-tempered of the three. He kept his mouth shut most of the time, preferring to chase ideas around in his processor for a while before speaking. He shared Starscream's habit of watching me oddly, considering, puzzling, trying to fit pieces together.

Skywarp was loud and boisterous. He had a wicked sense of humor and a propensity for pranks that got him into trouble more often than not, forcing me to step in when he went too far. Since he was my slave, he was my responsibility. Though he strained my temper sometimes, I liked Skywarp. He claimed his tricks were his way of showing affection.

Besides Optimus, most Autobots disapproved of my actions. The hostility towards me increased, though it was usually kept behind a thin veil of courtesy.

"The Senate overlooked the infraction of the slave code for my sake, on condition that there would be no trouble," Optimus cautioned us. "If any of you commits a crime, there could be serious repercussions." Here he looked pointedly at me. "For all of you."

I had no intention of causing trouble and jeopardizing the trine. They had the right to be together; no Senate on this or any planet had the right to separate them.

Did the Senate have the right to limit altmodes, to stop Seekers from flying, to enslave their fellow mechs and silence their protests? How were Prime and I the only Autobots who seemed to realize this? Why did nobody do anything about it?

Well, I was prepared to do something. I'd thought long and hard about the consequences. I was ready.

I approached Starscream in his quarters, on his terms. He would feel more secure here, more likely to trust me.

"Starscream… do you have a cycle?"

"I always have time for my master," he said blandly. "What is it?"

"You're planning something," I said.

"What makes you say that?

"You're building weapons. You and your wingmates are always discussing something. You've already tried to get me on your side."

Starscream smirked. "Is it that obvious?"

"I know you." I leaned forward. "If the Decepticons _are _planning some kind of uprising…"

"You're in dangerous territory."

"I know. But unless it's organized, it'll never fly. You must have a leader. The Autobots can't have completely destroyed the chain of command. Someone left over from the hierarchy during the War, one of Megatron's command team, surely the rest would turn to him as their leader. I want to talk to him."

Starscream crossed his legs and laced his fingers together, never taking his optics from me.

"Why?" he asked finally.

"Because I want to help," I answered. Surprise flitted across his face.

"Why?" he asked again.

"Because we're all Cybertronian." I was echoing Optimus and knew it. "Autobots, Decepticons, we're the same. If things really were as bad as you say, or if the Decepticons just fought for the sake of fighting, that's no excuse for what's happening now. It's wrong. Prime's done all he can to solve this without more fighting, but the Senate won't listen to talk. He can't just ask them to stop hating and expect everything to be fine. It would be wonderful if the world worked the way Prime does, if the Autobots actually held to their ideals and did the right thing. But it doesn't, and they don't. We can't resolve this by sitting back and waiting for Primus to descend from the Matrix and set things right. We need to act. If fighting is the only way to make them see, then... we'll fight."

A faint smile hovered on Starscream's mouthplates when I finished.

"We?"

That made me freeze, my Spark skipping a pulse or two. We. Not them, _we_. With that one tiny choice of words, I'd cast my lot in with the Decepticons.

I cycled an intake. Rather than try to speak again, I nodded.

Starscream's smile widened. "Well," he said. "I hadn't expected a speech. It reminded me of someone else." He laughed, then leaned back, the very picture of relaxation. "I'm listening. Talk away."

It took me a moment to catch up. "What?"

He heaved a patient sigh. "You said you wanted to talk to the leader of the Decepticons. I'm listening."

I gaped. "Y-you?"

"Why such a surprise?" he asked irritably. "You don't think I could do it?"

"No, but… _you_?!"

He laughed at my incomprehension. "Yes, me. I was Megatron's second-in-command. When he was terminated, I became commander of the Decepticons. That's why they gave me to Prime: only fitting that the highest-ranking 'con should be under the watchful optics of the highest-ranking 'bot. And then he gave me to you. And catering to your whims while trying to run a war is no picnic on the energon farm, trust me."

"I thought the War was over."

He smiled darkly. "As long as the Autobots believe in their superiority over Decepticons, this war will never end."

"How do things stand?"

I'd heard of a slave escaping from time to time, but not in the numbers that Starscream described. Evidently, there was a network of Neutral settlements and hidden caves, a "path" of sorts that traveled to Kaon. The city had been nearly demolished and was still frequented by Autobot patrols, but it had a vast system of underground streets and tunnels. It was here that the remnants of the Decepticons gathered after the defeat at Axis. They waited now, gathering their strength. They were ready, Starscream said… ready to rise against the Autobots.

"What are they waiting for?" I asked. "You?"

He chuckled humorlessly. "Not for me. For a sign."

I couldn't help my dubious look. "A sign? What, you mean, a sign from Primus or something?"

He shuttered his optics for a moment in exasperation. "Why do you think nobody tried rising against the Autobots before Megatron? He was a sign that the time was right. He made them bold, stirred them up. He inspired them. They fought for him to the bitter end… they would fight for him again in a nano-klik." He smirked wryly. "But let's talk about you."

Starscream leaned forward, optics burning intently. "If you're serious about this," he said quietly, "then I have to tell you. I'm bound to protect you. It's going to be difficult to lead as I have to if you're in danger. And the moment someone finds out, however they do, sooner or later, that you're a Decepticon or a Decepticon sympathizer… they won't be picky… you're fair game for slavery. It's in the Axis Decree. I need to be certain that you can take care of yourself."

"Teach me to fight and you'll have less to worry about," I answered. "I'm ready."

"Good. There's just one more thing," he said. "I trust you… mostly… but I need you to take the Decepticon Oath."

"No," I said.

"I can't risk you betraying us."

I faced him down, unrelenting. "I want the Decepticons to be free, and I am ready to fight for that cause. But I won't swear allegiance to you or any leader. You saw what happened to Megatron: he lost sight of his goal. If that happens to you, I won't be sworn to follow you down that path."

He was silent, considering me. Then, he vented air. "Fine. You want to help. Then we'll see what you can do for us…"


	9. Fight and Flight

**9. Fight and Flight**

* * *

Starscream let me accompany him when he dealt with his… our… fellow Decepticons. At first they were uneasy—I still had Autobot symbols on my wings—but eventually they grew used to me. That didn't stop them from casting me strange glances.

One Lugnut seemed particularly awe-stricken. He was huge and hulking, with graceless pincers on each hand and a single red optic in the center of what remained of his face. He was missing the lower part of his jaw, so could not speak beyond random mechanical sounds and bursts of static. He followed me as I followed Starscream. Just being around him for a breem or so had me looking over my shoulder for megacycles.

Starscream and I trained in a secluded area. Anyone who spotted us would charge Starscream with attacking an Autobot—conveniently spotting my sigils when it benefited them.

"There's only so much I can teach you," Starscream said. "Hand-to-hand is not my forte, but that's all we've got until you're armed. Now, let's work on your stance."

After he'd hammered my stance into something acceptable, he spent orns teaching me to fall properly. He banged out all of my dents himself to avoid any questions. Eventually he trained me both on the ground and in the air, with an emphasis on the latter. I discovered I had a knack for both.

When Starscream was busy, he sent Skywarp or Thundercracker instead. This was sometimes more enjoyable; I had grown used to Starscream's infinite condescension and sarcastic wit, but that didn't mean I _liked_ it. Skywarp was an enthusiastic sparring partner, leaving me panting and low on fuel. Thundercracker drilled me on the same techniques over and over again, but I rarely complained. He did things for a reason, not just to make me suffer.

When I _did_ complain, it was at the end of a long and frustrating orn. The first few megacycles, I had been forced to entertain a visiting Senator, who had made no effort to conceal his opinion of me. Now Thundercracker had me drilling endlessly, practicing until I was ready to snap. I felt like beating my processor out against the nearest hard surface and was very close to doing so when Thundercracker called a halt, watching me intently. Now that I was still, I wanted nothing more than to be moving again. This aimless, chaotic feeling wouldn't go away. My fingers twitched and I shifted, uncomfortable.

"How long have you been groundbound?" he asked. I calculated the orns.

"About an orbit. Nine orns or so."

He sighed. "Fly with me."

He shot into the sky and I blasted after him. Within a few kliks the buzz in my audios retreated. Thundercracker led me a merry chase across the city, dodging around towers and diving beneath roadways, and it was a challenge to keep up. After a few cycles I could focus again.

Thundercracker slowed high over the towers to let me catch up. I felt better than I had all orbit… weightless and free! He nodded knowingly at me smile.

"Don't forget to fly," he said.

* * *

The ire of the Autobots grew over the next few vorns until each glare directed my way felt like a blast to the face from a plasma cannon. The whispers grew louder, too, snide comments about my model or my processor, my creators or my habits in the berth.

These I could ignore. It didn't matter what they thought of me. But when I caught a mutter about how Optimus preferred his berth warmed by four Seekers rather than just one, I pinned the offender against the nearest building with my hand at his throat.

"Say that again," I hissed.

Starscream pulled me off. "He's not worth your time," he said, optics flickering around at the gathering crowd. _/Either continue this in private or let it go,/_ he hissed over his comm. _/Here anyone can see us./_

"You stay out of this, scrap," the 'bot snarled. "Drag your port around somewhere else… that's all you Seekers are good for."

Starscream punched him. Hard.

The 'bot went down with a screech and his companion leapt at Starscream. I intercepted him, holding him back with difficulty: he was much bulkier than I.

Something clanged off of my helm, making me yelp and let go. Two more clangs followed, accompanied by a familiar voice.

"Come on, break it up, you're all big bots! And you, stop that hollering or I'll dent your faceplate worse than that!"

I rubbed my helm as Ratchet yanked the first mech to his pedes. The red-and-green mech blubbered more than was really necessary—Starscream had only dented his nose—but when Ratchet brandished a wrench at him, he muted it. The four of us stood meekly (except Starscream, who had probably never looked meek since he was Sparked). The security mechs finally arrived, blasters at the ready, but hesitated behind the medic.

"All right, any of you big tough mechs feel like explaining?" Ratchet growled.

Dent-Nose immediately piped up. "He attacked me," he whined, pointing at me. "They ganged up on me! They would have terminated me!"

"Oh, _please_," Starscream sneered. "Denting your ugly faceplates is hardly—"

"Silence, slave," one of the security mechs interrupted. He grabbed Starscream. Another came for me, but I wrenched from his hold.

"Don't _touch_ me!" I snapped. "And release him at once!"

"I wouldn't arrest them just yet, Officer," Ratchet said. "He's the Prime's ward, or didn't you see those Autobot symbols on his wings, right in front of your optics?" The officers let go, looking sheepish. "Nova?"

"He insulted the Prime," I said angrily.

"You attacked first," Ratchet said sternly. "Let Prime deal with these two, officers. He'll handle them fairly."

"That slave damaged me!" Dent-Nose whined, pointing at Starscream. "I'm disfigured! I demand the right to punish him for his crime!"

"First of all," Ratchet growled, "stop bellyaching. Your self-repair can bang that out in a breem. You know as well as I that a mech can't punish another Autobot's slave without permission. Isn't that right, officers?"

The security mechs looked at each other, reviewing the slave code in their processors. Then, reluctantly, the captain nodded. "That's correct, sir."

Ratchet turned to me. "And does he have your permission?"

"No," I said. "I'll deal punishment as I see fit."

Dent-Nose and his crony glowered, but there was nothing more to be done. The crowd had already begun to disperse. Even the security mechs were leaving.

Dent-Nose glared at me. "This isn't over, Decepticon," he hissed, then shoved his way through the crowd. There was no way he could know where my allegiance lay, but his remark unsettled me. Protoforms had whispered "Decepticon" at me before, but it had never struck so close to home.

Starscream and I were left alone with Ratchet. The medibot crossed his arms and scowled.

"You two report to Prime and tell him what you did. If he doesn't hear it from you, he'll hear it from me. Got that?"

Starscream gave a derisive snort, but I nodded, already cringing inside.

* * *

A lecture from Optimus was worse than the scorn of every Autobot on Cybertron. It would have been easier if he'd shouted. But he didn't raise his voice, or look angry. Instead it was the awful disappointment on his unmasked face, the sadness in his voice.

I could have given excuses, to make myself look better, but I took it in silence, trying not to melt into a puddle. When he finished, I took a moment to ready my vocalizer. Then I said, "I'm sorry, Optimus." And I was, straight to my Spark.

He smiled. _All is forgiven_, that smile said. But he didn't know what I had done, what I planned to do.

Prime turned to Starscream.

"I shouldn't be surprised at you, Starscream," he said, "but I am. Nova's safety is your responsibility. You failed today."

I expected Starscream to look disdainful, or make a sarcastic comment, or something. Instead he looked away, uncharacteristically silent.

* * *

As I predicted, the incident with Dent-Nose wasn't the end. The skinny mech appeared everywhere I went, letting badly-concealed insults reach my audios. I ignored him with effort, thinking of Optimus.

Eventually he grew tired of his game, or so I thought. I learned later that he had gone instead to bait Skywarp and Thundercracker whenever Starscream or I sent them out. While I could laugh off the annoyance, while Starscream could smirk and uphold his pride, while Thundercracker could fume in silence, Skywarp couldn't help his personality.

Starscream received a call on his comm from one of his wingmates; he hesitated right before attacking, allowing me to swipe his legs out from under him. He scrambled up without so much as a scowl, and I realized that something had to be wrong. Starscream would never let me knock him down unless he had been distracted by something important.

"What is it?"

"Skywarp and Thundercracker," he answered. "There's trouble. Follow me."

We took to the air and I followed him away from Prime's tower. What we saw from above wasn't comforting: Thundercracker and Skywarp were in the middle of a brawl against three or four Autobots. I spied the now-familiar gleam of Dent-Nose's red-and-green plating, as well as the yellow of his larger crony, among them.

"Starscream, wait…!" I cautioned, but he was already diving towards his wingmates. I scanned the area for security or gawkers, but there was nobody. We were on the outskirts of the city, away from residential areas. I dove into the fray as well, intent on pulling the trine out before anything irreparable could happen.

I was immediately assailed by Dent-Nose himself. He went for my optics and I jerked back, straight into the arms of another mech. Rough hands caught my wings. I kicked back, firing up my thrusters, and whoever was holding me let go with a grunt. This sent me into Dent-Nose, who fell with a clang, only to stubbornly jump up again. When he came at me this time, I was ready, countering his weak attack. Trying to get him out of the fight without seriously harming him, I kneed him in the torso. As he toppled, I aimed a blow at the back of his neck. He went down hard and didn't move.

I looked up to find that the other two Autobots had fled when Starscream and I arrived. Dent-Nose's large companion lay on the ground, optics dark. I looked back at Dent-Nose as Starscream knelt over him.

"Temporarily offlined," Starscream said. He glanced at the other downed 'bot, mouth pulling into a thin line. "Can't say as much for that one."

"What happened?" I asked Skywarp. He glared defensively.

"The Autobrat tripped me. Called me a receptor model. What was I supposed to do, stand there and take it? So I told him where he could stick it and he decked me. Not my fault this clod couldn't block."

"He's offlined, Skywarp. _Terminated_," Starscream said.

Skywarp's optics paled and he threw Thundercracker a glance as the sirens started. "Well… uh…" Panic bloomed slowly on his faceplates, his words coming faster and faster until they bordered on hysterical. "You know what they do to slaves who kill Autobots! It'll be the scrap heap or the smelting pools for sure! Screamer, what'll we do, what'll we—"

"Quiet," Starscream snapped, standing. "We don't have much time before this one—" He aimed a derisive kick at Dent-Nose. "—or one of the others tells them what happened."

"I'll say I did it," I said. "I'm… well, they think I'm an—"

"No," Starscream said, overlapped by Thundercracker. The blue Seeker looked at me seriously.

"It won't make any difference," he said. "Those…" He nodded at my Autobot sigils. "…won't matter. You're one of us." He turned to Starscream. "We have to fly."

"Kaon," Starscream said. "Skywarp, Thundercracker, take the east route. I'll take Nova west. Watch for Autobots. Go."

Without hesitation, the other two transformed and rocketed off as the sirens drew nearer. Starscream motioned to me, but for a moment I couldn't move, paralyzed by the sight of the swiftly graying shell of the dead Autobot.

"Nova. We need to leave, _now_."

I tore myself away and we flew back towards Prime's tower.

_/Why are we going here?/_ I asked.

_/We need supplies. Wait in your quarters, I'll be back. Lock the door and open it for no one./_

He left me in my quarters and flew around the side of the tower. I paced nervously.

Primus, what was _happening_ to me? An Autobot lay dead and more would soon be chasing us, and I would be fleeing my home with an escaped slave… enough for me to be made a slave myself if I was caught. And all of this would only confirm what they all thought of me…

_Optimus_. My Spark clenched, icy numbness stealing through me. What would Optimus think? Would his trust in me be shattered? I wished that I could speak with him, explain what had happened, pour my Spark out and show him my good intentions, that I only wanted to help. I wished I could tell him goodbye, but there was no time.

Starscream landed on my balcony with two energon cubes. He shoved them at me. "Subspace those," he said. I obeyed. He ushered me to the nearest console.

"We're going to move your credits," he told me, connecting remotely.

"To where?"

"Working on that." He paused, optics brightening. "Perhaps they didn't…" He struck a few keys and another account appeared. "They didn't!"

"Whose account is that? Yours?"

He snorted. "I haven't had an accessible account in astrocycles. No, they'd never think to look here… nobody remembers it exists. This is Skyfire's account."

He transferred everything in my account to the other and covered his tracks, making it impossible for the Autobots to track or retrieve the credits. By now we could hear sirens.

"Let's go," he said.

I took a last look around. This was my home. It wrenched my Spark to leave this behind, but there was no other choice.

We left Iacon in vehicle mode, pushing our engines to the limit.

_/We won't fly long,/_ Starscream commed. _/We can't risk flying by day, they'll find us. There's a hiding spot where we can wait for night./_

After a quarter of a megacycle, he dove sharply and braked above a crevasse in the ground. He transformed and I followed suit.

"It takes thrusters to get in here," he said. "No groundpounder could do it."

He eased into the crevasse, steadying himself with his hands. He shuddered as his wingtips went under the surface and I grimaced in sympathy—our innate claustrophobia could make this more difficult. I leaned over to watch. The bottom of the crevasse was hard to make out. The gap widened further down, leaving a portion of the lower wall invisible. Starscream steered himself into the wider area, then gestured for me to follow him.

I squeezed my way down. My wings scraped against the walls in an unsteady wobble; my Spark pulsed uncomfortably as the sky narrowed into a strip.

"This way." Starscream's voice bounced off the walls once or twice. He pulled me towards him, where I now saw a cave in the side of the crevasse, hidden by the ledge above us.

Once we landed, I asked, "How would anyone find this place?"

"You'd be surprised how creative desperate mechs can be," Starscream answered. "Recharge. I'll keep watch and rouse you at moonsrise. We'll share a cube then…"

"You need a full cube," I said. "I can wait."

"We have to conserve," he said. "We've only got four between us."

"If you only drink half, I won't take any," I asserted. "You need it more than I. Let go of your slagging pride for a few orns," I added when he opened his mouth to protest. "Look at it this way: I need you online to get us out of this. You're going to drink a whole cube, and I'll take a half. I can manage."

He sighed. "Fine. Recharge now."

* * *

Recharge was limited without a proper berth. The cramped cave unsettled me. It felt as though I awoke every few breems to see Starscream perched near the cave's entrance, his back to me, a silent guardian.

When Starscream woke me, it was dark. Besides a glimmer of moonslight splashed onto the crevasse wall, the only illumination was the red glow of our optics. He offered me a cube. I drank half and watched to make sure that he drank all of another.

"We're still in Iacon territory," he informed me softly. "There's been activity aboveground, but things have slowed down now. They're still looking, so we'll need to be quiet."

"We can't fly?"

"Not yet. We'll aim to reach Simfur on our pedes tonight… there's a dry energon mine there that we can hide in. From there we should be able to fly. _Should_, the wind there is murder."

"We can't just… fly up into space and get there that way?"

He gave me a look. It was one of his "I've got _morons_ on my team" looks. "Of course, because the Autobots haven't _thought_ of that. They've got a blockade on the planet so tight that every bit of space debris is marked and labeled. It's been there since Axis, after the first few slaves used the space lanes to escape."

He led the way up out of the crevasse, thoroughly scanning the area for Autobots before allowing me to come out into the open. In the moonslight, everything looked the same; only on thermal could I pick Starscream and myself apart from the landscape. But that meant that Autobots could detect us, too.

Starscream and I were unused to walking long distances. After a while, walking was not only awkward but painful on our thrusters. Every so often we saw an Autobot patrol and moved out of sight.

We stumbled on for megacycles that felt like orns. The moons crawled across the sky, tracing a path through the glimmering stars.

Finally, Starscream pointed ahead towards a dark shaft. "There."

I shuddered… underground again.

We would have to remain in the mine for the day, too long for comfort. All that metal above us, rather than open sky, made my cooling fans kick on within a breem. I pulled my shaky limbs in on myself, hunching over where I sat and massaging my aching turbines.

Starscream's voice echoed oddly around the tunnel in which we sat. "I knew a Seeker who the Autobots put to work in a mine like this. After an orbit, he went berserk and killed two of the guards, then himself."

"Thank you for that comforting story," I said dryly. He smirked.

"You're welcome. During the War, the Autobots… at least, ones like Prime, who actually cared about their captives… had to think of creative ways to hold Seeker prisoners." He pulled out the half-empty cube of energon and tossed it to me. "Refuel, then recharge. We have a difficult flight ahead of us."

"It's my turn to watch," I argued. "You need this more than I do."

"I'm not having this argument every time we stop," Starscream growled. "I've already taken more than my share, and we don't take turns."

Stubbornly, I unsubspaced one of my cubes and threw it at his head. He caught it, scowled, and made as though to throw it back.

"I know how slave rations are," I said quietly. "You need this."

He made no reply, but tossed the cube back to me anyway. I set it between us, then drank my fuel in silence. When I looked at him he'd turned away, facing the shaft.

"If you need this," I said, just loudly enough for him to hear, "it's here."

* * *

It was no easier to recharge in the mine than it had been in the crevasse. At some point I activated my optics and saw that the energon cube was only half-full. I let my mouthplates curl and drifted for some time.

A touch on my helm made me shift, looking up from near-recharge to see Starscream settling down beside me.

"Come here," he directed, and after a moment of hesitation, I moved closer. The only way to comfortably fit both of us was to curl up awkwardly together. At least it was better than the unyielding rock.

I felt something strange when I was pressed against him. It was a feeling of _rightness_, of _belonging_. I could feel the warmth of his Spark on my chest. I felt safer and more peaceful than I had in vorns. I tilted my head just enough to see Starscream's face; his optics were shuttered, and for once there wasn't a frown or a sneer pulling at his mouthplates. He looked content.

* * *

"Unless something happens," Starscream informed me when night came at last, "we can make it to Polyhex tonight."

"Only Polyhex?"

"We'll be flying against the wind," he explained. "It'll burn fuel, and after that walk last night, it's going to hurt. I don't want a breakdown. There's an outcropping in Polyhex that's only accessible from the air. After that, we stop at Khalkon, a Neutral settlement in Tarn. Kaon is heavily guarded… it will be difficult to get word in and organize our entry."

It felt wonderful to stretch my wings and let the wind calm my nerves. It was a refreshing change from crawling along the ground or huddling in a cave. However, my turbines screamed in agony from the abuse they'd suffered the night before, and the headwind was strong.

_/The wind here blows to the north, in case you hadn't noticed,/_ Starscream told me. His comm signal was patchy with exhaustion. _/If you feel the need to refuel, don't wait. This mess will blow you all the way to Tyger Pax if you don't have energy to fight it./_

My energon levels, already low, dropped at an alarming rate as we struggled against the wind. I was beginning to worry that I wouldn't make it—more, that Starscream wasn't going to make it—when he finally angled down towards an outcropping. I didn't see the cave until we were practically on top of it. This one was bigger on the inside. I staggered to the back and sank gratefully to the ground.

Exhausted from the night's flight, I didn't notice what Starscream was doing for some time. He had pried his holomatter projector from his circuitry and set up a projection of a rock face over the mouth of the cave. He had cannibalized more of his nonessentials to fuel the projector and was in the process of patching himself up.

"I could have helped with that," I said reproachfully. He shook his head.

"I'm used to this," he answered. "I've had plenty of experience running on empty. You can't handle it."

Determined to prove him wrong, I stood up. For a moment I felt fine, but then a wave of dizziness struck me and I swayed dangerously. Before I hit the ground, Starscream was there to catch me, supporting me as he had when I was still learning to fly. My helm clacked quietly against his shoulder plating as I leaned on him. I could feel the warmth of his Spark on my chest, but though my own Spark shifted towards it, it was a longing to be closer, not the insatiable hunger for a merge. It was as though my Spark recognized his…

Starscream propped me against the wall and drew away, breaking the almost-contact, and as he straightened I thought I saw something in his face, a sort of tenderness or affection. It was gone in instant as he turned towards the cave's entrance. But I'd seen this before, all those times when I caught him looking at me in a way that was more than a slave at a master or a teacher at a student. I'd felt that pull on my Spark, the recognition, the orn before. And it made sense… perhaps because I was exhausted, perhaps because I'd finally realized what I should have vorns ago, but it _made sense_.

"Starscream…"

"I'll keep watch," he said, not looking back. "Try to recharge."

My voice sounded loud in the enclosed space.

"Starscream… you're my creator, aren't you?"

* * *

There was a moment of complete silence. Starscream turned half-around, fixing me with a penetrating stare but not speaking. Finally he cycled an intake.

"Yes," he said. "I am."

Starscream was my creator. I was the sparkling of a Decepticon. It explained my red optics, my Seeker frame. While I had once hated the Decepticons with all of my Spark, I had always been one of them.

Now, it didn't matter. I was surprised, but not disgusted or horrified. I had decided that I was a Decepticon long ago. I was proud of it.

A thought occurred to me and the irony made me smile: I _was _Sparked that way.

I leaned my head against the wall. "Tell me more."

"What more do you need to know?"

"Why was I raised by Optimus? Why didn't you just tell me?"

He laughed harshly. "Would you have believed me?"

"I might have."

He settled down across from me. "You know there aren't any Seeker femmes. The frame type is impractical for flight. Instead, a Seeker can carry a second Spark in his chamber for a time—a sparkling who needs a protoform to survive.

"You were already… there before Axis. Nobody knew, not even my wingmates. I didn't want anyone to find out, especially after Axis, but you had to come out sometime.

"Ratchet and Prime were the only ones who knew about you: Ratchet performed your transfer into a protoform. And Prime, emotional fool, felt that you deserved a chance to grow up free, so he took you as his ward." For a moment, I thought he was going to say something else, but finally he shook his head. "That's all."

"Who is the other?" I asked.

He considered for an entire cycle, his optics on me but looking through me, seeing another mech, another time. His expression was hard to place. Then his face hardened, something like anger settling there.

"You're better off not knowing," he said. "Not yet."

"Not _yet_?" I repeated, incredulous. "Is it _always_ not yet? Is it so horrible, or am I so weak and delicate that I can't bear it?! Or do you just delight in drawing things out? Are you going to give me little bits and pieces of the truth, one at a time, until I figure _that_ out too?!"

"If I had my way, you'd never have known," he snapped in reply.

"Why not?!"

"It's—!" He stopped abruptly, vents whirring, and looked away as he fumed. But the tension in his frame, the trembling of his wings; this emotion, hiding under the anger, I recognized.

Starscream was ashamed.

I remained silent for a cycle. Then, hesitantly, I ventured, "I'm sorry."

Starscream didn't answer.

"I won't ask you again," I offered. He must have his reasons, however his silence frustrated me. "I won't force you to tell me."

After a moment, he tilted his head. "Drink your energon. We need recharge. Tomorrow night, we arrive in Khalkon."

Forgiven, I offered a cube to my creator… my _creator_. For once, he accepted the full cube without complaint, and I drank our last half. When I had finished, I twitched my wings, looking up at the Autobot symbols painted there. It felt like an itch in my wiring. It was wrong. I was Decepticon-Sparked, and I had chosen the Decepticon way.

Bracing myself, I reached up and scraped my sharp fingers across the sigil, scratching until bits of red paint peeled off to leave only raw silver plating.

"What are you _doing_?"

I swiveled to show Starscream the bare spot. "I'm going to need your help with the backs."

"It doesn't have to hurt," he answered. "We can get solvent in the settlement, or paint over them."

"I want them off now," I replied. "I don't want anyone getting the wrong idea about me. And it should hurt. I'm f—just… help me get rid of them." It ought to hurt. I was stripping off my former self. I was leaving the Autobots behind forever.

My wings shook by the time we were done.


	10. Apis

**A/N: **Dancinglemur has a huge investment in Rise and has penned some extras on her own. This chapter is the first of several collaborations scattered here and there in the story. Half of this chapter was written in third-person by Lemur and then edited in by me.

**Edit:** When I told Lemur I was editing Rise, she specifically asked me to make a few changes. I have done my best to maintain the original spirit of Lemur's work.

* * *

**10. Apis**

* * *

The night's journey wasn't far, but the headwind remained strong. My thrusters ached, but I kept silent. Starscream probably hurt as much as I did.

This resolution became hard to keep when my thrusters stuttered and the wind blew me back several astrometers.

/_Starscream!_/

_/Land,/_ he answered, and we both transformed as we touched down. "Sit," he ordered, and I obeyed immediately. With the weight off of my landing struts, they felt only slightly better. Starscream sat in front of me and tugged my pedes into his lap, poking his fingers into my turbines.

"Hey, what—"

"Hold still and let me work. I don't have to be nice about this."

I tried not to squirm. My thrusters were sensitive and his touch was knowing.

"It's torn up," he said. "Those rocks, and then the wind… you can't fly on these."

"I have to," I argued. "We have to move on. I can make it."

"The more you try to use them, the worse it'll get," Starscream said. "They'll burn out."

"I said I can make it!" I snapped, pulling away and standing up. The pain surged, but I clenched my hands into fists and fought it back. I was a Decepticon, not some pitiful noblemech who couldn't bear some discomfort, and I wouldn't slow us down.

We continued southeast, slower than before, but my shredded turbines didn't stall again.

I'd never met a Neutral, but I'd seen them from time to time in Iacon. Prime, naturally, had Neutral friends, mechs who had once been Autobots but had opted for neutrality instead.

Neutrals had faced suspicion in the wake of Axis. They hadn't declared allegiance to the Autobots, but neither had they openly opposed them. All I knew of Neutrals was that they bore no insignias and were poor. I'd heard that they lived in badly-constructed towns set far apart from the Autobot city hubs.

We were far from Autobot civilization now. The closest major city-state was Praxus, then Altihex. The four city-states closest to the south pole—Kaon, Tarn, Trypticon, and Vos—had been solidly Decepticon throughout the War, at the core of the Decepticon movement, and were still mostly deserted save for Neutrals seeking escape from Autobot prejudice.

It was nearly morning by the time we began our descent. As we dipped lower, it grew light enough for me to see the settlement. Khalkon was much smaller than any city I'd seen, though it was more than the collection of ramshackle huts I'd been expecting. There was a conspicuous lack of towers. Many of the streets were narrow. Everything looked dull and worn.

The reason for the lackluster appearance became apparent as we transformed and came in to land. The wind from our thrusters threw up a thick cloud of swirling dust, obscuring my vision enough that the ground beneath my pedes came as a surprise. I cleared my vents sharply and heard Starscream coughing beside me.

"What is all this?" I asked.

"This is why I hate Tarn," the older Seeker answered, still coughing. "When the city-state was strong, the dust was never this bad. Nobody cares to clean it up anymore."

The dust began to settle, creeping into the gaps in my armor and irritating my circuitry. As the cloud dispersed, I saw that the town was every bit as bleak as it had appeared from above. Some early risers watched us, grim and suspicious. By the look of them, they kept themselves better than they kept their home. I was surprised to see a variety of makes and models from different regions. What amazed me the most was the rainbow of colors glowing in their optics. Though I had seen optics of unusual colors before, the overwhelming majority of mechs had blue optics. It was the easiest way to immediately identify a bot's faction: blue for Autobots, red for Decepticons. It made sense that mechs who identified with neither faction would choose optics of neither color.

We'd landed on one of the main streets, and though it was still early, mechs were preparing for the orn ahead, blowing dust off stalls, opening shop doors, and activating signs. Others drifted towards us, their pedes raising little puffs of dust.

_/What now?/_ I asked.

_/Leave the talking to me,/ _answered Starscream. _/Trust me./_

I wanted to tell him how ridiculous that was, but I was distracted by the approaching mechs.

"Hey there," one greeted, politely enough. He had the trace of an unfamiliar accent. "Headin' south?"

"That's right," Starscream answered. I had a feeling they'd said more than I'd heard, for understanding passed swiftly across the Neutrals' faces. "Been a while since we had a decent recharge. Any accommodations for the two of us?"

The first mech glanced at his neighbor, a sturdy blue-and-red groundpounder. He had blue optics, to my surprise. When he spoke, it was in a thick drawl that reminded me of Ironhide's.

"I kin 'commidate you," he told us, sticking out a hand to shake. "Designation's Sidewall. Jes th' two 'f you?" Starscream nodded. "I got room as long as you need. I'll give you whatever energon I've got t'spare. Young mech like him—" He nodded at me. "—can't live long runnin' on empty. I got a place fer you both upstairs. Real private-like. Ain't no one'll bother you there."

Before he could say more, a skinny protoform came running down the street, dust billowing up behind him. "Sidewall! Sidewall! Autobot patrol comin' in frem th' narth!"

Sidewall moved quickly towards an open door. "Hide there," he told us urgently, gesturing into the darkness. "In th' shadows. I'll run 'em off."

Starscream pushed me into the cool dark space ahead of him, squeezing in behind me, and Sidewall shut the door. Little gaps in the door and walls let in shafts of light. Adjusting my optics to the darkness, I saw a cramped storage area. My wings twitched.

_/If we're found, don't think twice,/ _Starscream commed._ /Take off and fly south as fast as you can. Don't stop, don't look back, just get to Kaon./_

_/What about you?/_

_/What matters is that you get to Kaon, understand?/_

The sound of motors made both of us go still. Peeking through one of the gaps, I saw the grim, dusty crowd of Neutrals, led by Sidewall, facing down a full Autobot security patrol. The head of the patrol stepped forward, holding out a datapad.

"We're looking for these mechs," he said, casting a disdainful optic over the Neutrals.

Sidewall barely spared the datapad a glance before offering it back. "Never seen 'em."

The Autobot ignored him. He spoke slowly, as though he were talking to a sparkling. "There's a reward," he went on. "A big pile of credits if they're turned in."

"I said we ain't seen 'em," Sidewall said, shoving the datapad towards him again. "Go look someplace else."

"They're murderers," the captain said, sounding annoyed now. "Kidnappers. Escaped slaves. The kind of mech you don't want in your little… town."

"We ain't got no slaves here," Sidewall asserted.

"We have a Senate directive," the captain said. "We're going to search this entire settlement."

"Well, you ken take yer fancy directive an' shove it up your tailpipe, cause you ain't searchin' nothin,'" the larger mech replied, taking a step forward, followed by the rest. The Autobots looked intimidated. The captain cleared his intakes.

"You can't stop us," he said. "It's the law."

"You don't see us pokin' our olfact'ry sensors in your cities, do ya?" Sidewall asked. "You got no right to come bargin' in here like you own th' place. Now get out afore we throw you out."

"The Senate—"

"Now!"

It was amusing to watch the Autobots scrambling backwards. The captain was the last to transform. "I ought to arrest every last one of you!" he shouted.

"Ah'd like ta see ya try!" the skinny protoform yelled back, and the Autobots vanished, kicking up dust behind them. The Neutrals laughed, dispersing to their own business, and Sidewall came over to let us out. He handed over the datapad the captain had left. Starscream read it and snorted, passing it over. The faces shown were Starscream's, Skywarp's, Thundercracker's, and mine.

"Y'ain't really murderers."

Starscream shook his head. "Self-defense."

"And they didn't kidnap me," I put in.

"I believe you," Sidewall said. "These days, give a mech a red insignia an' he thinks he's all high an' mighty. One time th' name of Autobot was somethin' to aspire to, somethin' to be proud of. Now it ain't worth slag. I ain't sayin' there ain't good Autobots. Ain't saying there ain't bad Decepticons. Just it don't mean nothin'. I warn't always Neutral… was an Autobot, once. Nothin' to be proud of, anymore. I was jes tar'd of it all. Slaves an' masters an' sich. Op'mus Prime, he's th' only good Autobot left, if y'ask me."

* * *

The room tucked away above Sidewall's home wasn't large, but we fit comfortably. I fell straight onto one of the two berths.

"We both need repairs," Starscream said. "Is there someplace where we can buy parts?"

"You want Steelcrusher's place," Sidewall answered without hesitation. "Jes about anythin' you need, he's got. Mos' secondhand, but they repair it an' make it nice. 'Crusher's a nice fella. Good mech. Tha's the place you want. 'Ere, these're fer you."

He left a moment later. Something plunked off of the back of my helm. I turned my head to see two energon cubes lying beside me. Starscream sat on the other berth, two more cubes in his hands.

"Drink," he said. "We'll buy more later. And we could both use a decent recharge." He glanced out of the dusty window. "I don't know about you, but I'm going to stay in stasis until tomorrow. Then we can find this shop he mentioned and I'll repair our thrusters." He turned a critical optic on his wings. "And paint," he decided.

If he said anything further, I didn't hear, for I'd already fallen into recharge.

* * *

"You're sure this is it?" I asked Starscream. The older Seeker cuffed my arm.

"Of course I'm sure!" he snapped back, but I suspected that he was just as lost as I was. Starscream pushed past me and into the shop.

"Someone'll be wit' you in a klik," a huge, hulking tank-model told us, optics burning orange in a plum face. This must have been Steelcrusher; his size certainly suited the designation. He went back to haggling over what looked to me like useless bits of scrap.

I examined the items on the walls. Most appeared used, but they had been cleaned and repaired into some semblance of working condition.

"I, ah, hello!" a cheerful young voice called out from the back. A small orange mech skidded to a stop before us. "I'm sorry, I was, ah, working… in the… back…" He trailed off, gaping upwards once he'd gotten a better look at us. The strange appendages on his peach-orange helm (handles, since he appeared to be some sort of motorcycle) perked up, then flared back down as he caught himself staring. "Sorry," he said nervously, rubbing the back of his head with one hand. "I've never seen Seekers this close before."

I'd never seen a mech of this model: the tiny waist and the curvy figure and the wide-open face and the orange optics. The strange little mech started chatting away at Starscream, asking what we needed and suggesting different bits of merchandise. I tilted my head to the side, peering closer at the orange mech.

A large upper chassis wasn't unusual in Earth models (Ironhide and Ratchet were proof of that), but the orange mech didn't have the same bulky build and thick waist that I had thought necessary to support the heavy upper torso. His legs were curvy, too. And long.

When the little mech caught me staring, his optics lightened to embarrassed orange-gold.

"Well, I, ah, um…" The mech trailed off, derailed by my staring. I wasn't being _that_ rude. The cycle-bot fidgeted worse than ever, poking his index fingers together and looking everywhere _but_ at me.

"Well, um, if it's heel-thruster parts you're looking for, I'm afraid we don't have a very updated selection. We don't, ah, get a lot of Seekers around here." He gave an embarrassed laugh and rubbed the back of his neck again.

"Well, then, what _do_ you have?" Starscream asked, just shy enough of condescending that I could at least pretend he was being polite. The handlebars flicked sideways and a scowl flashed across pale faceplates, but the perfect host was back before I could be sure.

The orange mech described the parts they carried as I examined his face. The curve of his cheeks and the wide set of his optics was a popular look in Altihex, which was now one of the wealthier city-states. Whoever this mech was, he hadn't been Sparked here in this dusty Neutral town.

But my musings were thrown off as the handles at the base of his head, right near where his crested helm met his neck, started twitching again. Back and forth, up and down, side to side and they should _not_ be this fascinating and Starscream was snickering again.

I glared at Starscream, who continued to smirk. The mech pulled on one of his handlebars, peeking up at us from beneath the protruding edge of his helmet.

"I'm sorry," I said, shooting Starscream a dirty glare. "You were saying?"

He perked up. And then-

"APIS!" a voice screeched from the register. The orange mech flinched, handlebars flattening back to his neck.

"Yes, Andromeda?" he asked, shoulders rising defensively as he turned towards the voice. The mech scowling from behind the counter narrowed his poison-green optics and crooked one clawed finger menacingly. The little orange mech turned back to us and gave us a rather forced smile.

"One moment, please?" he asked, pleasant voice trembling with barely-restrained annoyance.

While the cyclebot crossed the shop to where the other two-wheeler waited, I glared at Starscream. "What's so funny?"

"Oh, nothing," Starscream replied innocently. It wasn't convincing.

"Must you find everything I do amusing?" I snapped.

"It's not my fault you make it so _easy_," he answered sweetly.

"Aft," I muttered, seeking out the cyclebot with my optics. He was arguing with the other one, though the green mech did most of the talking. The orange one... Apis. Apis's shoulders were hunched nearly to his audios, and he scowled at the taller bot. I had no idea what they were fighting about until Apis's co-worker ran his optics up and down my frame with a hungry look that made me more than slightly uncomfortable. I turned up my audios and pretended to look at one of the turbines Apis had left.

"_Seekers, Apis. _Seekers_. Why didn't you tell Steelcrusher to give them to me? You probably almost scared them away with that _paintjob_ of yours._"

Apis hiked his shoulders up even higher. "_Slag off, _Andy_._"

The green mech stiffened and squawked, "_What did you call me, you little droid?_"

Apis grinned and ducked a swipe. "_If you'll excuse me, I've got to get back to my customers. Unless, of course, you'd like to tell 'Crusher that we lost the sale because you were jealous._"

"You little toad!" the second cyclebot roared loudly enough for the entire shop to hear. Apis danced back over.

"Sorry about the wait!" he said brightly, optics glowing and handlebars atwitch from his victory, not quite able to take the grin off his face. "So how about those thrusters?"

We ended up buying the thrusters, the turbines, and several cases of paint. We brought it all to the counter. He had just finished scribbling down our items and was haggling with Starscream over the price when the plum-colored tank from before stuck his head in from the back room and told Apis to come help. Apis flashed us an apologetic smile, thanked us for our business, and left with one last covert glance.

Starscream's wings were twitching—he had something to say and wanted to say it _now_. The green mech slunk up to the counter and draped himself across it.

"Can I... _help_ you?" he purred, sweeping his optics up and down. I tried to catch a glimpse of Apis in the back room. I was vaguely aware of Starscream's continued haggling with the new employee, and I was certain that most of what the cyclebot said could be interpreted in more _raunchy_ ways than he surely intended.

Apis didn't re-emerge from the back before we finished (Andromeda, as the green cyclebot had introduced himself, was too busy flirting with Starscream to haggle well, something Starscream took full advantage of) and I was forced to leave without another glimpse of the orange mech. I didn't know why I was disappointed.

"Apis," I mused to myself as Starscream and I walked back to our temporary quarters, laden down with the parts we'd bought. "That's an odd designation."

The other Seeker nodded. "It's a constellation in the Milky Way galaxy."

I frowned. "What I didn't get was his frame." I didn't see so much as feel Starscream stop walking. "I've seen other cyclebots before, but I've never seen a mech with that odd a build."

Starscream snorted in amusement and I finally turned to glare at him.

"What _now_?" I demanded.

"Mech?" Starscream managed. His voice rose in pitch throughout his disbelieving question. I narrowed my optics. "You thought... oh, Primus, you thought that little femme was a _mech_?"

* * *

"Oh, hello again!"

Apis's cheery voice greeted me as I walked back into the shop. I thought that Starscream had sent me back here just to make me suffer, but some masochistic part of me had wanted to see Apis again (even though the rest of me wanted to curl up under a rock and deactivate).

I managed a smile, unable to meet his—no, _her_ optics. "Hello," I told her pedes.

"So, um, was there a problem with the parts?" she asked. How had I thought that someone with that voice and face and body, even if most of it _was_ covered with grease and oil, was a mech? In my defense, femmes were scarce even in Iacon, and Apis didn't look much like the ones I'd seen there.

"No!" I said quickly. "Not at all! It's just..." I tried to remember what I was here for. My processor didn't seem to be functioning at full capacity. Paint! That was it, our paint. I held up one of the canisters we'd bought earlier this orn. "We got the wrong paint."

Apis grinned. "Well, that's easy enough. Just wait a klik and I'll tell 'Crusher he needs someone else to tinker with the train." She bounded to the side door and stuck her head outside to where a train car lay belly-up. "'CRUSHER!" she shouted—how could such a tiny femme make so much noise?—"I'M TAKING A CUSTOMER. GIT SOME'UN ELSE T'LOOKIT CYBERBLAST'S CART!"

"FINE!" a voice bellowed back. "FRITZ KIN FOOL WIT IT TIL YER DONE!"

"THANKS, 'CRUSHER!" she shouted, then turned and smiled, handlebars flicking as she trotted over and snagged the paint canister from my hands. "So, what do you need paint for?" she asked, leading the way to the corner stacked with more canisters.

I scanned the color chart for the shade that Starscream had specified. "We both suffered damage getting out here and Screamer's so vain that he refuses to wait any longer for his touchup."

Apis giggled and put the erroneous canister back. She pulled out a few shades of blue. "Most Decepticons we get through here are like that. They're so shabby and rundown that they hardly recognize themselves anymore."

Apis strained to reach a blue that was just out of reach. "Needless to say, most of the Decepticons are escaped slaves, but most... oof, slaggit, come _here_, you little glitch..." She went up on the tips of her pedes to reach for the can. "Most Autobots who come here nowadays are the ones who can see that this slavery thing is wrong and, oh!" She overbalanced and, while saving herself from toppling into the carefully stacked pyramid, knocked over the canister she'd been reaching for. It dented off her shoulder and sprayed sky blue across her orange. I moved quickly, snagging her before she fell and grabbing the bleeding can in my other hand before it could do too much damage.

I pulled Apis up and only then realized that I was still holding her around the waist. I let go quickly. We shuffled for a moment, then I mutely offered her the canister.

"Thank you," she said, peeking up at me. My faceplates heated up and I turned my head aside, mumbling that it had been nothing. "Um, well, I didn't really get a chance to properly introduce myself earlier, so..." She stuck out one blue-covered hand. "I'm Apis. It's nice to meet you." She looked at her hand and made an embarrassed sound, handlebars tucking in towards her neck. "Sorry." She began to pull her hand back, but I moved forward and clasped it, ignoring the paint.

"I'm Nova," I answered, smiling. "And it's very nice to meet you, Apis."

I didn't let go of her hand right away; from the look on her face, I had a feeling she didn't mind.

* * *

Starscream, I decided, was a nosy, interfering slagger.

I scowled darkly at the Seeker monopolizing Apis's attention. I sulked in the background while Starscream amused himself by asking Apis about random insignificant details like the ingredients and proper application of the paint—all things he _knew already_, slaggit...

I ground my denta in frustration. For a bot who lived out in the middle of nowhere, Apis had a refreshing view on things. Her explanation of the Neutrals was optic-widening, but part of the reason I'd been so enthralled was the sound of her voice and the way her optics lit up and her handlebars wiggled when she was passionate about the topic.

And then Starscream had decided to show up and be an aft. I'd grumbled about it several times, rather loudly, just to be sure that he heard.

I continued to scowl as Starscream made the purchase (with _my_ credits) and ushered me out of the store. I looked over my shoulder, wanting to say goodbye, to say _something_, but unable to because of the smirking Seeker pushing me out with a firm hand on my shoulder. Apis stared mournfully after us.

As soon as we were clear of the shop and immersed in the crowd again, I shook off Starscream's hand with a snarl and punched the other Seeker in the torso, leaving a streak of sky blue paint.

"What was _that_, aftface?" I snarled furiously. Starscream smirked.

"What was what?" he asked innocently. "You were taking too long and I've already gone an ungodly amount of time in this pitifully shabby condition."

"I-! You-!" My anger made me inarticulate. "We already _have_ all the paint we need! You sent me back for no reason and then barged in to buy paint we already have?"

Starscream snuck me a sly look, grinning in a way that made me decidedly uneasy. "I don't see why you're complaining," he purred. "After all, you got to talk to that pretty little _mech_."

I contemplated punching him again. In the face. "Oh, shut _up_ about that." Starscream snickered. I might have left him behind and just lifted off, regardless of "conserving fuel" or "damaged turbines," when a voice I had become familiar with over the past few megacycles called out my designation.

"Nova! Nova, hey!"

I turned and saw the blue-stained orange figure wiggling her way through the tight press of the crowd. Starscream's snickering alerted me that I was grinning embarrassingly. I kicked him in the shin to shut him up.

"Hey, Apis!" I said, flinching slightly at the way my vocalizer cracked. Starscream's snickers grew louder.

She beamed at me and bounced on her pedes, rocking up to press her mouthplates against my cheek. Dumbfounded, I stared down at her, one hand pressed to the spot she'd kissed. She laughed and dimmed one optic in a wink.

"You're cute. If you're sticking around for a while, don't feel shy to stop by the shop again, okay?"

And she turned and shot off the way she'd come, transforming midstride to cut through the crowd in motorcycle form.

Though Starscream was smirking somewhere off to my left, I couldn't help but stare dazedly after the little cycle-femme.

"She said I'm cute," I murmured belatedly to myself. Starscream preened as if _he_ had received the compliment.

"But of course," he said, already turning and walking away. "You take after me."


	11. Leaving

**A/N:** In this chapter, the scenes with Apis are a collaboration between myself and Dancinglemur, though I did insert an extra conversation.

* * *

**11. Leaving**

* * *

It was a relief to have my thrusters repaired at last. Starscream went about his work with the ease of long practice.

"I've had experience," he explained. "When I explored with Skyfire, we went over all sorts of terrain, so both of us had to be accomplished in field repair."

Starscream had just volunteered more of his past than I had ever been able to coax from him. But he fell silent, lost in thought, and I resigned myself to curiosity.

Then, to my surprise, he spoke again. "The Academy hasn't changed much."

"You attended?"

"Long ago." He snapped something into place inside the thruster he was working on and my pede jerked in reaction. "We were scientists. Skyfire was my partner. A friend."

"What did you study?"

"We were xenobiologists—explorers. We studied other planets and alien species. That was more to get away from Cybertron and the Academy than anything. None of them liked me very much."

"Why not?"

"Jealousy. I wasn't the first Seeker to attend, but I was the only one at the time. The old view is that Seekers just aren't programmed for academics." He sneered at some imagined Autobot. "Just because I could do what they never…"

"I know how it feels," I said, remembering the scorn of my classmates and teachers. He looked up at me and for a moment there was a connection between us, something that bridged the astrocycles that separated us.

"Anytime we were on Cybertron, it was almost too much to stand "," he went on. "The warning signs were there… energon shortages, class distinctions. We spent as much time off-planet as we could."

He stopped, mouth pulling tight. I prompted him. "What happened?"

For a moment, I was worried that he wouldn't answer. Then he sighed.

"An accident," he said, his voice flat and dead. "What we did was dangerous. We both knew that. Skyfire was patient… he never took risks, always calculated everything, did his best to make sure that both of us came back alive. But I was sure that after so long, we'd be fine…" He shook his head. "If I hadn't been so impatient, we could have waited.

"There was an organic planet, far from Cybertron, that we wanted to investigate. We should have observed the atmospheric currents, but I convinced Skyfire to forget about the calculations and we tried to go to the surface. We hit a storm over the northern polar region. I managed to escape, but I lost track of Skyfire. I searched as long as I could, but…" He shook his head again. "His energy signature was gone. That was the last I saw of him."

He stared resolutely at his repair work, optics burning. I saw the lie, but let it pass.

"When I came back alone, they all said I'd murdered him. They didn't even send a search party. You're done," he said abruptly, sweeping away his supplies. Just when I'd been hanging on his every word, he'd stopped. Typical. "How does it feel?"

I activated my thrusters at a low setting, marveling at how smooth they felt—better than before. "Feels good."

"Then help me with the paint. I'm sick of being invisible."

It felt wonderful to get repainted, especially my stinging wings. The cool paint soothed where my Autobot symbols had been scraped away, soft gray first and a brilliant red stripe after. Starscream painted the purple Decepticon insignia on each wing, front and back.

"When we get to Kaon, I'll do this properly," Starscream said. I looked more closely at his wings and saw the insignia scarred into the metal, though the color was faded. Those who had fought in the War had their sigils branded permanently into their armor. It showed their dedication and strength, their devotion to the cause.

Then it was Starscream's turn. The other Seeker was incredibly finicky, but the result was worth it. Starscream spread his wings to admire the color. He was brilliant to look at, flashy in red and white. His helm was freshly black, not the faded dark grey it had been, and I'd painstakingly recreated his Decepticon insignias.

While Starscream preened, I drifted to the window, watching mechs go about their business in the street below.

A snicker from Starscream made me glance suspiciously back at him. "What?"

"You won't see her out here," he said. "The shop's some way off."

"Who said I was looking for Apis?" I sputtered. He raised an optic ridge.

"Please," he scoffed. "Your processor's in the clouds. There'll be no living with you like this. Go on, get out of here."

I went straight for the door.

"Oh, and Nova?"

I came up short at Starscream's call, swiveling to glare at him. He smirked.

"Be sure to use your firewall."

I slammed my fist into the control panel to slam the door behind me, wishing it was Starscream's face.

* * *

I looked around the little shop, but besides a customer browsing through the shelves, there was nobody there. In the quiet, I heard a familiar voice coming in through the back and drifted closer to the storeroom door.

"Nova…" I jumped, but realized that she wasn't speaking to me. "Do you think he's a Decepticon? He's got a Seeker build, but no faction symbol."

"'Is friend 'ad th'marks. 'Cons travel together."

"But he—Nova, I mean—he had some scoring on his wings. Like he had insignias before, but scraped them off. He could be one of us."

Before I could hear more, a visored mech (and this time he actually _was_ a mech) appeared through a second door. "Can I help you?" he asked. I scuffed at the floor and hesitantly asked for Apis. The mech ducked through the back door. I was inspecting the tower of paint cans when there was a sudden thump and an "Oomph!" as the air rushed out of someone's vents.

I turned to see Apis pulling herself up from where she'd been thrown face-first onto the floor, rubbing her abdominal plating and glaring back through the door. She looked up, saw me staring, and her optics blushed gold.

"I, um, ah, Nova! Umm… hi?" she said, getting to her pedes and brushing futilely at the dust on her chassis.

"Hi," I answered, looking off to the side. She fidgeted nervously. More snickering from the back room.

Apis's shoulders rose clear to her audios and her handlebars flared out, and…

…and I must have missed something while staring at those furiously twitching handlebars because now the little visored mech from before was back and smirking at Apis. The femme was shouting at him, but her words slipped right through my processor because I was focused completely on the movement of her handlebars.

"…needed, Nova?"

I jolted. "What?"

Apis clasped her hands behind her back and rocked on her heels. "I said, did you remember something else you needed?"

I stared at her for a moment, then remembered that I had no reason for being here yet again. "I… ah…" I floundered, searching for anything to justify my presence and coming up short. "Um… actually… I was wondering… if you wanted to go somewhere?"

"Go… somewhere?" she echoed. "As in… like… a date?"

I nodded. A grin broke out over her face. "I'd love to!" she chirped. Then her face fell. "But… I can't. Not right now, anyway. I'm on shift." She threw a glance over her shoulder at the door. "Maybe… right when I get off?"

I nodded again. Then, in a sudden fit of boldness, I leaned down and mimicked what she'd done to me the last time we'd met, pressing my mouthplates to her cheek. Then, burning with heat, I pulled back, smiled, and left.

And then promptly had to go back in and ask what time she got off shift.

Apis, standing where I'd left her with one hand pressed to her cheek, recited the time in a dazed voice, and I repeated it back to her before fleeing to prevent anything else that might make her reconsider.

* * *

Several cycles before the appointed time, I stood outside the shop waiting for Apis. _It's okay. We'll just go out for some energon, nowhere fancy, just one of those small, quiet shops that's still good class and carries good stuff and—_

Slaggit. I'd been planning to take her to places I'd known in _Iacon_. I knew _nothing_ about Khalkon or what was considered good here, or what parts of the city were considered "okay" for this sort of thing, and—

A giant hand clapped down on my wing and I yanked out of my panicked musing with a startled yelp and an attempt to fire up my thrusters, but the hand prevented me from flying off.

"Woah there, calm down a klik."

I looked up into the orange optics of the tank who ran the shop.

"S-Sorry," I apologized. Primus, I hadn't realized how _big_ this mech was when I'd seen him the orn before. Not to mention that dangerous-looking hand was _on my wing_...! I twitched. Thankfully, the monster mech got the message and moved his hand to my shoulder instead.

"'s all right. Now, yer th' mech takin' our Apis out t'night?" There was a gleam in his optics that I wasn't entirely comfortable with—at once joking, serious, and promising bodily harm.

"Yes, sir," I answered.

"An' you are…?"

"Nova. Sir." I didn't know why I was calling him "sir." Maybe so that he wouldn't get it into his processor to squash me like an organic.

"Nova. Where're ya takin' Apis then, Nova?"

"I… ah… I'm… not sure. I forgot—"

The tank grinned so widely that it was visible from beneath his clunky jaw guard. "Y' fergot this ain't where y'came from, izzat right?"

I nodded. The tank roared with laughter and clapped me on the back hard enough to almost send me sprawling. The tank's hands curled around my shoulders and stood me upright again, but didn't let go once I'd regained my balance. I shrank back, as the suddenly very serious mech loomed into my space.

"Any funny bisniss, any wrong moves 'r unwanted advances n'I'll rip out yer Spark," he growled. "Apis's like my creation, an' if'n you hurt 'er I'll kill you. Unnerstand?"

I nodded frantically. The tank pulled back to a safer distance. He grinned sunnily again, as though he'd never threatened me.

"So, if yer lookin' fer a place t'go t'night, I'd suggest U-Turn's place up'n the fifth sector. 'S nice n'respectable n'affordable." He gave me one more thunderous clap on the shoulder and walked back to the shop. "Nice meetin' ya, Nova."

Apis, on her way out, looked quizzically at the two of us, but the tank just smiled down at her and (much more gently) patted her shoulder. "'ave fun, sweetspark," he told her, before turning to glare coldly at me over his shoulder in silent reminder.

Then, thankfully, the mech went inside for good.

As I stared after the giant somehow squeezing into the shop, Apis gently touched my arm.

"You okay, Nova? 'Crusher didn't scare you too bad, did he?"

I allowed her to lead me away from the shop. "Crusher?" It certainly fit.

"Yup! Steelcrusher's been like a creator to me since I came here." Apis beamed at me as we walked side by side through the crowd. "He's protective, but once he gets to know you he'll be fine."

I was unconvinced. Apis just laughed at the way my face scrunched up and we slipped into easy conversation as I followed Steelcrusher's directions.

It was odd to walk through the crowd with her, obvious to anyone that I was _with_ her, and not receive any filthy looks. Back in Iacon I couldn't walk down a street without being glared at and whispered about. It was nice to not subject Apis to that. It was also a novel experience to feel my wings subjected to curious and appreciative stares. For the first time in my life, I flexed my wings wider and stood a little bit taller, basking in the optics of the crowd.

I'd half-expected Steelcrusher to lead me to some hole-in-the-wall dump that would guarantee this… _date_ to end in humiliation. But it was a nice place, surprisingly clean.

By the time we'd ordered our energon, the conversation had taken its inevitable turn towards our backgrounds.

"So how'd you make it to Khalkon?" Apis realized what she'd asked the klik after she said it and shut her mouth, her handlebars twitching in embarrassment. " I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I didn't mean to pry, I was just…"

"From the northwest," I said, once I was able to draw my optics away from those distracting handlebars. "We came in through Polyhex." That was general enough that she wouldn't know too much. It would be nearly impossible to trace us back to Iacon from that information, though my accent and make could be a dead giveaway. I was quick to change the subject. "How about you?"

Apis stared at me for a moment, then looked down into her energon cube. "I'm from Altihex," she finally said, confirming my initial observation. "But I've lived here with Steelcrusher a long time."

"He's not your creator, then?"

Apis shook her head and toyed with her cube. "He was a friend of my creators. He took me in, after…" She trailed off.

"I'm sorry," I said. I reached across the table to lightly cover one of her hands with mine. Apis gave me a shy smile and folded her other hand over mine.

There was a brief silence, but it was more comfortable than earlier. Her handlebars flicked, reminding me of Starscream's burning-with-curiosity wing-twitch. My faceplates heated up as she ran her fingers across my wrists.

"Most Decepticons have scarring here," she said. She looked up, optics scanning the new symbols on my wings before settling on my face. "But you don't. Even when you came in for repairs, you were in better condition than most. And you don't act like the rest either. They don't trust anyone. They act like they're ready for someone to attack them. You act like… well, like what an Autobot should be."

"Thanks, I think…?" I ventured.

"I wish…" Apis hesitated, looking down at the table. "I wish more people were like you."

Her gaze shifted from my wrists to my face and back. Finally, she couldn't hold it in. "You don't have to tell me," she said in a rush. "I don't mean to pry. I just…" Her handlebars drew in towards her neck. "You make me wonder."

* * *

We left the restaurant and walked side by side through the darkened streets. It was late, and the town had settled down. We walked closer together now, the backs of our hands brushing, and we smoothly shifted from conversation to easy silence.

Apis suddenly stopped me, grinning. "Follow me!" she whispered, grabbing my hand and ducking into an alley. I let myself be pulled along, turning so that my wings didn't scrape against the walls. The alley was narrow, and while Apis could move with ease, it was a bit cramped for me.

"Apis, where are we?"

But she just twisted for another grin as she turned into a stairwell. "You'll see!"

She let go of my hand so I could swerve to avoid hitting my wings. The stairwell seemed to go on forever, and I began to feel claustrophobic.

"Apis?" I called out again, but the femme was gone around another twisting corner, leaving behind only the echo of her laughter and a flash of orange.

"Come on, Nova!" she called out. "You're almost there!"

I surged forward, and suddenly I was on a rooftop. "Apis?" I called again, this time in curiosity, stepping further out onto the roof and looking around. There was a crate of datapads, a small light, and a blanket laid out there, all looking well-used.

"Look up, Nova!" Apis's voice came from somewhere above my head. I looked up and only briefly took note of her swinging pedes hanging from an outcropping above the door before I saw the stars.

The _stars_. Primus, I'd never seen so _many_ of them.

I'd flown at night before, but I'd never been able to see the night sky like this. I knew what was out there—solar systems, stars, other planets— but I'd never seen them painted so beautifully across the dark blue sky in shades of purple, blue, and white.

"Wow," I whispered. Apis jumped off of her perch, taking my hand again and leading me over to the blanket spread out on the roof. She flopped down, putting her hands behind her for balance as she leaned back to look up at the sky.

"It's amazing, isn't it?" She patted the space beside her. "Sit down before you put a crick in yer neck, Nova."

I sat down next to her, then lay back and tucked my hands behind my head, looking into the sky.

"This _is_ amazing," I said. "I've seen the sky before, but _this_?"

"It's the city lights," Apis answered. "Out here we don't have the light pollution, so once everyone goes into recharge and turns out the lights, you can see _everything. _It's beautiful, right?"

"Yes," I agreed, sneaking a glance at her from the corner of my optic. "Beautiful."

"What's it like to fly?" She reached up as if she could grab the spiral of a galaxy in her tiny hand. "To see this and know that you can have it all just by firing up your thrusters?" The longing in her voice was hard to miss.

"It's hard to explain. Flying is… enlightening. Humbling, enabling, amazing… it's freedom." I fell silent, searching for words I didn't have. Apis sighed longingly.

Suddenly struck by an idea, I turned my head and grinned at her. Apis looked confused.

"What?"

"How would you like to find out?"

* * *

"Eenngghh… are you _sure_ this is a good idea?"

Apis had been ecstatic at first, but now, looking over the edge of the rooftop and supported only by her pedes on top of mine and her arms tight around my torso while mine looped securely at the small of her back, she was beginning to have second thoughts.

"Of course I am." I grinned down at her. "Trust me. I'm a Seeker."

She winced and tucked her face into my canopy. "I do trust you, I do, it's just AIEEE!"

I stepped off the building mid-sentence, making her cut off into a panicked scream. She clung to me, practically winding around me as she offlined her optics.

"Apis," I coaxed, sliding my hands up to her neck and shoulder and gingerly stroking her handlebars to get her to relax, "Apis, it's all right. You can look up now."

Apis peeked over her shoulder. When she saw that we were hovering safely, she stuck her head all the way out. Seeing how far we were from the ground made her cling a little tighter, but she vibrated with happiness.

"Nova," she whispered, awestruck, staring out over her town and up at the brilliant stars. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

* * *

By Apis's request, we flew most of the way, but when my thrusters began aching she was quick to insist that we walk so as not to undo the repairs I'd just gotten. Our interlocked hands swung between us. We rounded the last corner and hesitated across the street from Steelcrusher's shop. Apis groaned at the sight of lights in the lower shop levels.

"He _waited up_ for me," she groaned. "Like I'm still a _sparkling._"

"He cares about you."

"Yeah, but I'm not a protoform anymore. I can take care of myself."

I couldn't resist a grin in response to her pout. "Oh, sure."

She mock-scowled and gave my arm a playful shove. "Slagger!"

I laughed and caught her other hand in mine. We both paused, not wanting to give up the moment.

"I had fun," Apis said. "Thanks."

I cleared my vents. "Thank _you_ for not laughing in my face."

"Why would I laugh? You're an interesting mech, Nova. Not hard on the optics, either."

I thought I might short-circuit from the heat of my faceplates. Apis sighed. "I guess I might as well get it over with," she muttered, glaring at the lights of the shop. "My room's up on the third level, so it's not like I can sneak past them…"

"Yes you can," I reminded her. "Do you have a window? I can fly you up there. That way, no interrogation until tomorrow."

Apis grinned up at me. "Oh, would you? That would be great."

So we ended up hovering in the air before Apis's window. After she was safely inside, she stuck her head back out to speak to me. I dropped down to optic-level.

"Really, Nova, thank you," she said. "I had a great time."

"Good," I said lamely, then reset my vocalizer. "I had fun too."

The silence came back and this time it was awkward, waiting for something.

Apis was the first to break it. She bit her lip, glanced this way and that, and then took a deep intake. "Nova, I…" She carefully put one hand on my shoulder, and slowly, giving me time to stop her if I wanted to (but I didn't want to, _really_ didn't want to, even though I wasn't sure what was going to happen), leaned in, and gently pressed her mouthplates to mine.

The next thing I knew, I was flat on my back on the ground, there was the static in my sight that came from rebooting after a short-out, and Apis was in near-hysterics at my side and babbling that my head had just started smoking and I'd fallen and she hadn't known what to do and she'd panicked and she'd called Starscream and…

Primus, she'd called _Starscream_. I was _never_ going to live this down. I groaned and covered my face with my hands.

The worried chatter tapered off and I looked between my fingers to see Apis wilted at my side. "Apis?"

"Yes?"

Apis thought I was upset over what she'd done. I hurried to reassure her.

"It's not… you didn't do anything wrong."

I was rewarded with a hopeful smile. "Then… why'd you groan and cover your face?"

"Starscream is _never _letting me forget this," I admitted. Her handlebars perked up happily.

_Well_, I decided, _if Starscream's going to taunt me anyway_…

I leaned up on my elbows. Apis went still, optics staring into mine, searching for… something. I hoped that she found it.

_Might as well make sure it's worth it._

I closed the distance between us.

…and woke up on my back again a few kliks later, this time with Starscream cackling in the background.

I groaned and slapped my hands over my face.

* * *

Starscream had a lot to say about my glitch, usually accompanied uncontrollable snickers. Only later, when we had readied ourselves for recharge, did something approaching seriousness return to both of us. Starscream's optics glowed through the darkness.

"You realize we can't stay here forever," he said.

"I know."

"Our designations and faces are all over the datastream. I'm surprised that your femme doesn't already know who you are."

I hadn't considered whether Apis had already known more about me than I'd told her.

"She can't come with us where we're going."

"I know. Why are you telling me this now?"

"We leave tomorrow night."

I'd known we would eventually leave Khalkon, but I'd hoped that I could have more time with Apis. My Spark sank.

Starscream broke the silence again. "If you plan on saying goodbye, do it tomorrow."

* * *

It was painful to see Apis' face light up with happiness at the sight of me, only to fall when she realized why we were there. Knowing that the next time we met, if I _ever_ saw her again, would be a long time away made this even harder. Her handlebars slumped dejectedly and her shoulders hunched up.

"I knew you had to go on," she said. "And I know the chances we'll meet again are slim, and that it probably wasn't smart to get so involved… but I don't regret it," she whispered, reaching out to brush against the back of my hand. I was quick to catch her and Apis tightened her small, slim fingers in my larger ones.

"Even if I only got to be with you for a few orns…" She leaned up and kissed the side of my mouth, just far enough away that it wouldn't make me crash. "…I'm so grateful that I got to meet you at all."

* * *

We left Khalkon by air as shadows fell. I tried not to think about what I had left behind.

Tarn slipped away far below and Kaon appeared beneath us. The landscape looked much the same: blasted and desolate. The city crouched in the barren, scarred land, dark and brooding. Once-proud towers lay shattered on the broken streets. Once-thriving thoroughfares were deserted. There was no dust here; instead, the air felt stale and dead. The oppressive atmosphere pushed down on me as we landed in the grimy outskirts. My Spark shrank in its casing, hesitant to pulse with life in a city so dead. All around I felt the optics of long-deactivated mechs staring at me, judging me. My sensors played tricks. Whispers met my audios, too soft to understand; figures moved in my peripheral vision but were gone when I looked. Kaon was an ancient city, a city of ghosts, old and angry. She sheltered her children somewhere beneath her war-torn surface and threatened her enemies with a sluggish, yet potent, malice.

Starscream motioned me back towards a blackened building; a sign crunched deafeningly under our pedes as we slipped away.

_/They'll know we're here,/_ he commed. Even that seemed an unforgivable disruption of the tension. _/The Autobots monitor activity everywhere in the city. But the others have been waiting for us./_

We waited in the silent darkness. The growing shadows reached out their tendrils to ensnare chunks of rubble.

Night fell over Kaon.

Voices—real voices—reached our audios, indistinct at first but growing louder. Soon we could hear their movement, loud and clumsy in the dead air.

"…nothing here, I swear. You know how the sensors are. Probably just a glitch mouse." This one sounded scared. Young, too, maybe even younger than I.

"You know the drill. Anything disrupts the sensors, we have to investigate. You're probably right, but still…"

"You've heard the rumors, right? About Guardrail's team?"

"And Twin Twist's before that, and Spectrum's before that."

"Primus, I can't wait to get out of this slagging place. I tell you, nothing could be alive here. This is slumming it even for Decepticons."

"I wouldn't be so sure. Patrols don't just vanish off the face of Cybertron."

"You don't think there's ghosts around here, do you? I've heard…"

"No such thing as ghosts. You could chat my audios off with all the things you've heard, Sprocket. Do you see anything?"

"Not on visual. I'm picking up traces of an energy signature. Think we should call for backup? Because that's sounding really good."

"Topspin's unit is coming from the eighth sector. They'll take a while, since the road collapsed."

"This city's got it in for us. I tell you, I can't wait to get out of… hey, there's some residual thermal energy here."

"I've got it too. Charge up your blaster." The second mech raised his voice. "This is Autobot security. We know you're here. Surrender now and you'll remain functional."

Starscream shifted, making as though to stand.

_/What are you—/_

_/Trust me,/_ he answered, and stood up, motioning for me to stay put. "Don't shoot!" he cried. He'd layered his voice with so much terror and pleading that I was almost fooled. I knew better. "I surrender!"

The Autobots drew near.

"Keep your hands where we can see them," the elder ordered. Starscream smirked as he extended both arms towards them.

"Oh… like this?"

With a shift of his plating, his completed null-rays emerged, already humming with energy. He fired.

"Broadside! Hey, wh—!"

The younger Autobot's cry ended suddenly and there were sounds of a scuffle. I stood and saw Sprocket struggling with a pair of mechs. Each managed to pin one of his flailing arms, though he still screamed and kicked. A third Decepticon moved in front, blocking my view. There was the sound of shattering glass, a painful crunch, and the Autobot went limp.

The Decepticons tossed the shell aside as its color began to fade. There were five in all, red optics piercing the darkness. All of them were dull grey, the color of dead, Sparkless metal.

The mech in front, the largest, threw a salute. "Welcome back, Lord Starscream. Stealth Unit Alpha Commander Hardtop at your command. Acting Commander Shockwave sent us to escort you and your companion to the sixth sector entrance."

"Thoughtful of him." Starscream motioned to me and we stepped out into the street. _/Stay behind me and keep quiet./_

Hardtop turned to his troops. "Rampage, Stonewall, take care of that one." He jerked a thumb at the other Autobot, who lay offlined but alive. "If you'll follow me, my lord."

He led the way from the scene. It wasn't quite fast enough to avoid hearing the rending screech of metal and then horrible silence.

Our escort moved with muffled steps. They were part of the city; it was difficult to pick their grey forms apart from the shadowy ruins.

"It's our job to keep the Autobots afraid of the city. The ghost stories are our doing," Hardtop explained. "That's what the paintjobs are for. We're the _real_ ghosts of Kaon."

We ducked through a dark doorway into a cavernous hall. The ceiling looked prepared to collapse and crush us. The Stealth Unit paused around a featureless patch of floor and Hardtop scuffed away a sheet of metal to reveal a single dataport. He linked to it and a moment later part of the floor slid aside, revealing a dark staircase.

"The sixth sector entrance," he declared. "Do you require a guide?"

" It hasn't been _that_ long," Starscream answered. "Return to your stations."

The grey mechs melted back into the shadows, leaving no sign that they had ever been there. Starscream and I descended the staircase, the trapdoor closing behind us. The tunnel was low and dimly lit, but wide enough to accommodate our wings. Eventually it grew brighter and more regular, more a hallway than a tunnel. Noise grew from a low hum to the sound of movement and industry.

"The Stealth Units utilize recent technology that hides their energy signatures," Starscream said. "Eventually, I hope, all Decepticons will leave no trace of their presence."

"Wouldn't it be difficult to locate our own mechs?"

"It's a problem. I'll have to check on Shockwave's progress."

Starscream paused, turning suddenly to face me.

"Before we go on," he said, "you need to know. It won't be easy. It won't be like Iacon. There, I could keep an optic on you. The Decepticons knew that I could and would punish them for insubordination. Here, you have to take care of yourself. Trust no one, be quick on your pedes. Try not to insult anyone. You don't have a trine to back you up. I can't help you. Decepticons leap on weakness… you can't be mine. You'll have to learn quickly. If you're pushed, push back. If an officer gives you an order, follow it. Right now, you are _nothing_, no more than the dust in our turbines, do you understand?"

I nodded. I couldn't get by on a glare or a sneer in this new territory. I'd need to prove myself, and until then, I should tread carefully.

The hallway opened into a large chamber. The light was dimmed for the night. Much of the cave had been constructed by Cybertronian hands, but some was naturally formed.

The mechs here, the few still awake, were clearly escaped slaves. Most were in some state of disrepair; I wondered whether this was due to a lack of materials, medics, or both. Most had red optics. All wore the purple Decepticon insignia… and all were staring at us.

"Lord Starscream," someone said at last. The greeting was repeated, murmured by dozens of vocal processors. Starscream took it in stride, sweeping his way through the crowd. He'd always been arrogant, but now I saw him in his element, in power and loving it. The stares that followed Starscream—fearful, uncertain, resentful—inevitably landed on me. Their optics burned into the backs of my wings.

I held my head high and exuded cool superiority as I followed my creator through the subterranean city. There were sparse furnishings and a vast network of doors and hallways that Starscream navigated with ease.

"You'll learn your way around," Starscream said. "We're nearing the command center now, so most of these are officers' quarters."

"Where do I stay?"

"Near me. Be grateful. Not everyone gets his own room." We passed a pair of guards who straightened as we walked by. "Remember, don't speak unless spoken to. And don't say anything stupid."

Doors slid open before us and Starscream led the way into the command center. It was a large, circular area on two levels, one an astrometer or two higher than the other. Busy mechs occupied the consoles and screens scattered around the walls. They looked up as we entered, scrambling to their pedes.

Two mechs observed the rest from the second level. Both bowed as we ascended. One, a mech with dark purple plating, stepped forward. I was taken aback by his featureless face: he had no mouth, no olfactory ridge, just a single red optic.

"Congratulations on your safe return, Lord Starscream," he said. His cultured voice came as a shock. I'd been expecting a voice of lesser quality, not this crisp and precise speech.

"Shockwave," Starscream answered. "I trust the preparations have gone smoothly?"

"Indeed. Have I informed you of the safe arrival of our Communications Officer?" Shockwave indicated the mech beside him.

"Soundwave," said Starscream. The second mech, his face hidden beneath a red visor and a silver mask, inclined his head.

"Starscream: acknowledged. Query: identity of your companion?"

Starscream chose his words with caution. "A new recruit. Nova assisted in my departure from Iacon."

Both mechs watched me closely. Soundwave's stare was disconcerting. I felt that he could see through Starscream's story and straight into my processor.

After they had talked for several cycles, discussing numbers and weapons, Starscream motioned to me. "We've had a long journey," he said. "We require recharge."

Shockwave bowed again. "As you wish, my lord. Your wingmates have prepared your quarters."

Starscream visibly cheered up. "When did they arrive?"

"An orn ago."

Starscream's quarters were close to the command center. As the door slid open, two Seeker-shaped cannonballs shot out, slamming him into the wall across the hallway.

"_Screamer_!"

"Don't _call_ me that, idiot!" Starscream's hand appeared out of the tangle of mechs, jerking to the right. "Door, inside, over there. Yours."

I stepped inside my quarters and gasped. The rooms were even more spacious than those in Iacon. This couldn't be standard for "new recruits." I asked Starscream about it as soon as he disentangled from his wingmates. He answered with a mysterious smile.

"They were vacated," he said. "Recharge. I have work to do. So will you."


	12. Kaon

**12. Kaon**

* * *

I suffered uneasy dreams in which Sprocket still screamed in terror and fought to live. Despite this, I woke refreshed. My new berth had done wonders.

I entered Starscream's quarters and found Skywarp. He tossed me an energon cube. "Starscream's busy with preparations, so you've got the orn to explore."

"Preparations?" Shockwave had reported that "preparations" were going well. "For what?"

"For our glorious return to the surface world or some poetic slag," Skywarp said with a snort. "We're getting ready to jump back in the fight. It'll give the Autobots something to chew on." He laughed, then waved a hand in farewell as he headed for the door. "Anyway, go have a look around. Try not to get your aft kicked."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Skywarp grinned and was gone. I drank my energon in a rush and went out into the halls. Mechs watched me curiously; whether because of my wings, my novelty, or whatever usually attracted their optics, I didn't know. I ignored them. Instead, I peeked into any open doors I saw, finding washracks, storerooms, more hallways, common areas.

Then I looked into a dim room and saw a stilled conveyor belt and several dark piles. I went inside for a better look. The room was larger than it had first appeared. Shadows loomed around me. The glow of my optics gleamed off of broken metal surfaces and shards of glass. The conveyor belt was stained in several places. I looked closer—it was energon. I drew back, unnerved.

_What _is_ this place?_ I wondered. I peered closer at the nearest pile. A moment later I recoiled… was that a _hand_? Morbidly fascinated, I looked again and saw more discarded parts, some in better condition than others. They all came from different mechs, many battle-damaged. The only thing they had in common was that all were still usable.

"You're early."

The quiet statement made me jerk away from the macabre heap. A mech had appeared while I was distracted. The door hissed shut, throwing us into near-darkness. I tensed at the loss of my escape route.

The mech was neither overly large nor very small. He didn't have the outline of Seeker wings. The red glow of his optics bounced off of my armor and the stacks of plating.

"Wouldn't expect to see you here for a while yet," he said. His voice was deep and husky.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"Undertaker," he said. "Designation and function. Yours?"

"Nova."

"I thought so." He paced around me, scanning me up and down. "Fine set of wings you've got there. Haven't had new wings for a while. Seems to be the first thing to get destroyed."

"Uh—"

"Autobots like to strip a Seeker before we get there. Like the wings for trophies. Try to crash on our side when you go."

"I—"

"Forgive me if I ramble. I don't get visitors. You bring back memories."

"Memories? Of what?"

"Ah, Seekers, the most important parts always destroyed when they come in here. Wings, thrusters? Gone. Let me see." Undertaker came right up to me, strong fingers pulling at my arm. I jerked away. "Unmodified. No weapons. You'll need to fix that."

"What are you talking about?"

"Ah, just like his frame. Now there was a frame I'd have loved to get my hands on. Perfect form, beautifully made. That cannon would have been a prize… never would have passed that on without his permission. But can't get permission from the dead. You can tell anything you want to a shell and they'll just listen. It wears on the processor. All those astrocycles. Those wings of yours are nice. What would he think of you? Well, you won't join him for a long time."

"Who?"

"Unless I'm wrong." His optics took on a sinister gleam. "I don't get visitors. You're a strange one. You came early. Are you volunteering? Are you already offlined? Those pretty wings could serve another Seeker, so nice of you to keep them intact for me."

I backed away from him. "I'm not offlined," I said. "I was just looking."

"You haven't realized yet. I see. Strange ghost… haven't noticed…"

"I'm not a ghost! I'm alive!"

"Mechs who come in here never go out. A hand here, a pede there, repair, repaint, and recycle, no sense in wasting, but Primus, _he _was a mech with a frame I'd have loved…"

"I'm alive!" I repeated emphatically, backing into the wall before his relentless advance. I activated the command to open my chest. The blue glow of my Spark made him rear back, optics wide.

"Now there's something I haven't seen in a long time," he murmured at last. He looked up into my face. "You _are_ alive… you _are_ alive. You're back… no, not you, not with those pretty wings…" He looked back at my Spark and I closed my chamber uncomfortably.

"I'm leaving," I told him, skirting around him in the direction of the door.

"Mechs who come in here never go out," he said quietly, still staring at me.

"Then let me be the first," I answered. The door opened and I backed out. Undertaker's optics followed me until the door closed.

I hurried around the corner and slumped against the wall. Undertaker had shaken me. His rambling had seemed to have no substance, and yet I had the feeling that he'd said something important.

The hallway ended at an impressive door. I hesitated before it, reading the glyphs which traveled in winding spirals across its surface—knowledge, memory, truth, past, thoughts, and dreams—before it opened to let another mech out. I stepped aside to let him pass. Then, intrigued, I entered.

The soft blue glow of active consoles and shelf upon shelf of datapads permeated the large, dark room. There were a few others inside, but they paid me no attention, remaining absorbed in their work. It was completely silent save occasional footsteps or a soft murmur. I walked as quietly as I could, marveling at the sheer amount of data contained in one place. The anxiety from my encounter with Undertaker soaked away in the soothing atmosphere.

At the other end of the long hall was another door. I went through and found myself in a round room surrounded by six doors. Each door was labeled with one of the six glyphs I'd seen outside.

"Are you looking for something?" a soft voice asked. I turned to see a mech—where had _he _come from? He was tall and thin; his frame suggested a flier, though he lacked visible wings. Pale red optics gleamed from his silvery face.

"I, ah, no... what is this place?" I asked quietly, reluctant to disturb the peace.

"The Archives," the silver mech replied. Something in his gaze felt strange, but I couldn't place it. "Each of these doors leads to one of our halls." He pointed to the door labeled "past." "The Hall of Records, the history of our kind." The next door displayed "truth." "The Hall of Truth, for scientists. Next the Hall of Thoughts, for those seeking theory and philosophy. The Hall of Dreams, full of stories for entertainment. And the Hall of Memory."

"What's in there?" I asked.

"Follow me."

He led the way through the door and into the next hall. There were no datapads here, only consoles. Three of the seven were occupied, the mechs sitting there linked directly into them, immersed in whatever data was being viewed.

"Here in this room are the compiled memories of all Decepticons," the Archivist said. "All who wish to copy their memory to the Archives may. It will be locked from public view until their termination; a mech may choose to pass his memories to those who follow. Would you like to leave your memories here?"

"Maybe later. So there are entire lives here?"

The mech nodded slowly. "Nearly every Decepticon who was ever online."

"Starscream's memories are here?"

"Yes."

I hesitated. "Megatron?"

"Of course." The Archivist's gaze intensified as he looked me over. "Yes. Up until the very last moment. Starscream brought everything back."

"What do you mean, he brought it back?"

"He was the only one who witnessed Megatron's termination. He retrieved the contents of Megatron's processor before the Autobots could and visited here earlier this orn to deliver them."

"I didn't know," I murmured.

"Megatron's memory will remain locked. If you're looking for him, you may find him in someone else's memory."

Frowning, I took my leave. I would like to return here soon and leave some of my memory, some of myself, so that others might understand why I'd done what I had when I was long-offlined. I wanted to see Megatron, too, and understand him, and to see Starscream and learn more about him. Perhaps learning from past Decepticons would help me get by here.

As I made my way back to the command center, I reflected on what the Archivist had said. Starscream never talked about Axis. He'd never told me anything about his experiences in the War. I _had_ to know what I was up against. I would ask Starscream about the War, about the Decepticons, about Earth, about Megatron. If anyone would know, surely it would be him. He'd been Megatron's second-in-command.

I found Starscream in his quarters with Thundercracker, speaking softly together. Both of them stopped as I came in.

"Nova. Been exploring?" Starscream asked. I nodded.

"I met a mech called Undertaker and found the Archives. Do you have a cycle? I want to talk to you."

Starscream threw a glance at the door. "There are things I really should get back to."

"Shockwave's managed for a centivorn without you," Thundercracker said. "I'm sure he can handle another few breems."

"But now, just when we've got everything—?"

"Talk with Nova. He's your sparkling. I'll let you know if there's a major crisis in the next megacycle," his wingmate said. I gave him a grateful smile as he passed. His energy field nudged mine affectionately.

Starscream gestured to his wingmate's vacated seat. "Undertaker? You actually went in there?"

"It's not like I knew beforehand," I pointed out.

"And you got out alive? He tends to scrap mechs who wander in there. His processor is glitched, but no one else will take his function."

"He's... interesting." I remembered something Undertaker had said. "Do Autobots really take Seekers' wings as trophies?"

"They do. I'm sure Prime doesn't know about it. I've seen too many stripped Seekers after a battle..."

I shared his grimace. Wings were a Seeker's pride. The idea of losing my wings, even in death, terrified me.

"And you visited the Archives. Did you spend any time in the Hall of Memory?"

"That's what I want to talk about. The Archivist mentioned something interesting. About Megatron's memories." Starscream frowned. "You never mentioned you were there at Axis."

"Everyone was at Axis."

"But you were _there_ when Megatron... was offlined."

"Did he say I killed him?" he asked sharply.

"No. I just want to know, that's all, and you're the only one alive who saw it."

Starscream hesitated. "I'd prefer to keep it to myself, believe it or not."

"I understand. But I'd still like to know."

He sneered. "Of course, you'll order me to tell you whether I want to or not."

"I might," I replied, meeting his gaze squarely. He considered.

Finally he looked past me, scowling at the wall.

"We shouldn't have been there. The Autobot fleet had stopped at the Axis cluster to regroup and repair themselves and Megatron ordered the attack. We had the element of surprise, but Autobots can be surprisingly creative. I went to argue with Megatron... we always argued."

"Why?"

He snorted. "Because he was an idiot. I was there to tell him just how much of an idiot he was." He sounded bitter. "We argued. Then the world exploded. An Autobot gunner had hit the flagship right in the command center." He hesitated, and I wondered what he was editing out of the story. "And that was all. The Autobots boarded and took the survivors prisoner."

"If that was all, is it secret?" I asked.

"Don't push your luck, scraplet."

"Tell me what really happened," I ordered in frustration. "Show me if you can't say it."

"You-!" he began, nearly standing, but it had been a direct order. He winced and glared and sat again, reaching unwillingly to his arm and tugging out a cable. I bared the corresponding port and he linked us together.

I had a moment to feel his consciousness swirling around with mine, roiling with pride and bitterness, yearning and anger, before he plunged me into a memory file. I watched through Starscream's optics as he and Megatron stood on the bridge of a starship, a ferocious battle raging outside.

"…foolishness when we should have gone on and secured our hold on Cybertron!" Starscream was saying.

"This is our chance to destroy Prime and his Autobots," Megatron growled. "They weren't expecting us."

"This 'battle' is a _disaster_," the Seeker scoffed. "Have too many vorns made you forget how to wage war in space? We need to pull back and regroup before we lose too many of our soldiers..."

"Pull back?" bellowed Megatron. "I'm finished retreating! Decepticons _don't_ retreat! It's time we reminded them."

"Then continue this idiocy!" Starscream hissed. "I, for one, am taking my Seekers and—"

Megatron backhanded him hard enough to send the smaller mech sprawling. "Deserters will be punished," he snarled. "Your treachery knows no bounds, Starscream!"

Starscream shot angrily to his pedes. "And your stubbornness will kill us all! We can't—"

As he spoke, Megatron's optics focused over Starscream's shoulder. Without warning, he seized his second's arm, wrenching him forward and stepping between him and the windows in one stride. All of this took less than a klik, and then the world erupted.

The explosion blew fire and shrapnel everywhere. The force of it threw both mechs into the air. Starscream's wings and left side were a mass of searing agony as he landed heavily, barely online. For half a cycle he lay staring at the glowing shards of metal littering the deck, and then he mustered up his strength and lifted himself to one elbow, looking around.

The bridge was half-demolished, burnt and twisted metal lying among glittering pieces of reinforced glass. The ship's emergency defensive field shimmered over the breach, keeping everything from being sucked into the void. Megatron lay a body length away.

Starscream dragged himself to his commander's side, leaving a trail of energon. Megatron's once-proud frame was in ruins, and energon formed a spreading pool beneath him. The Seeker shifted so he could touch Megatron with his functioning arm. Red optics flickered, focused. No words were exchanged, though Starscream's Spark was a whirl of pain and confusion over Megatron's final act. The other mech reached up and touched Starscream's chest just over his Spark. Then his arm fell to the floor with a clang and his optics went dark and wrenching agony rent Starscream's Spark, like it was being torn apart—

"Enough," Starscream said, jerking away and leaving me trembling. I stared at him, my processor struggling to catch up.

"It hurt," I said, momentarily unable to think of anything else.

"Of course it hurt, my wings were half-melted. I should get back to the command center."

I followed him, determined for answers. "When he died, it hurt your Spark." I'd never heard of such a thing.

"No matter. I need to return to my work."

We were almost at the command center. "Hey," someone called, making me turn. Starscream noticed that I'd actually heeded the call, sighed in exasperation, and stopped as well. The mech who'd spoken looked young, his frame a newer model based on an Earth design.

"Oh, _excellent_," I heard Starscream mutter sarcastically.

The groundling took two steps forward. His red-and-black plating was battered, and I noticed the scars Apis had mentioned on his wrists. An escaped slave.

"What are you looking at?" he snapped.

"Nothing," I said defensively.

"You looking for trouble?"

"Not really."

"I know about you, Autobot. You can't pass as one of us!"

There were murmurs from the mechs who had gathered to see what was going on. I hitched my wings higher, narrowing my optics angrily.

"I'm as Decepticon as you are."

The red mech smirked. "Then prove it. I'll see you in the arena."

He departed, along with many of the gawkers. I glanced back at Starscream, who looked equal parts amused and resigned. "What just happened?"

Starscream's mouthplates twitched into a smirk. "You've been challenged. We settle disputes through duels here."

"What dispute? He just… I didn't even…"

"What does it matter? You've been challenged, and if you back down it'll make everything harder."

There was a flash of purple between us and Skywarp was suddenly there. The startle sent me pressing against the wall, believing it to be an attack.

"Hey, Nova! Is it true you got challenged already?"

"Where did… how did you…?"

"I see the grapevine is still functioning as efficiently as ever," Starscream said dryly.

"What's a grape—never mind! How the _slag _did you-?"

"Don't blow a circuit," laughed Skywarp. "How did you think I got my designation? Fragging Autobots had my teleport on lockdown but Screamer—"

"Don't _call_ me that!"

"—fixed the thingy but that's not important now, did you or didn't you?"

"He did," Starscream put in.

"Nice! This I've gotta see. Try not to get your aft kicked!"

He was gone in another flash of purple. I glanced anxiously at Starscream, but his smirk offered no sympathy.

"We'd better get moving," he said. "Wouldn't want to be late, would we?"

I bobbed along unwillingly at his side. "How serious are these duels, exactly?"

"That depends."

"On what?"

"On who's fighting and how angry they are." He flashed me a sly grin. "You'll draw in quite an audience. That groundpounder seems to have taken a dislike to you."

"I didn't even do anything!"

"That doesn't matter. You're going in there. Do me a favor and win. I'd hate to see a Seeker beaten by a groundpounder."

I understood that there was more than Starscream's pride at stake. He'd taken a risk bringing me here; it was obvious that the other Decepticons knew of my background. If I failed to prove myself, it would reflect poorly on Starscream.

We entered the largest area I'd yet seen in Kaon. The cavernous chamber was both tall and wide, and at the moment it was full of Decepticons. There was an excited hubbub.

"The arena," Starscream told me. "Sparring grounds. Muels are fought in the center, where the seats are."

"Is it always so crowded?"

"This is a special occasion." He laughed. "I told you there'd be a crowd."

"I'm so special that I get to have my aft handed to me in front of _half the fragging Decepticon army?_"

Starscream's optics flared. "You'd _better_ not."

We approached the arena, where Skywarp and Thundercracker were already waiting.

"Your opponent has given up his weapons," Thundercracker told me. "An honorable mech."

"You mean he didn't have to?" I was growing more nervous by the klik.

"Of course not," Starscream answered. "The standard rules?" Thundercracker nodded, and my creator turned to me. "You're allowed to take off, but only if you land in the ring. If you step out or get forced out, it's an automatic forfeit and you lose. Aside from that, anything goes."

"Wh- anything?" All three nodded. "When does it end?"

They all glanced at each other. Starscream replied, "Whenever the victor chooses." My intakes hitched nervously. Starscream's smirk finally faded. "I have the authority to call a halt if things get out of hand," he said. "But I'd rather not have to."

The crowd was getting impatient, and my opponent looked edgy. With no further words, Starscream went off for a better view, Skywarp following. Thundercracker accompanied me to the edge of the ring.

_/You understand how important this is, don't you?/_ he asked over comm. _/ They're testing you, and testing Starscream. There are enough doubts about him already./_

_/Wait, what? What do you—/_

He pushed me into the ring, the border of which was carved into the floor and lined with glyphs. My opponent watched me intently, grinning.

"Come on, Autobrat," he taunted. He was larger than I, though not by much, and if the cheering was any indication, he was more experienced in the arena.

The red mech made the first move, feinting forward and darting back. He'd been testing my nerve; I hadn't flinched. While he processed this, I lunged. He had quick reflexes. He jerked aside and punched at my unguarded back. Faster than I'd expected. I caught a flash of his still-grinning face and a lick of anger rose in my Spark.

Who was he to doubt my place here? I was a Decepticon. I belonged here.

I fought with everything that Starscream and the trine had taught me, but the slagger was always one step ahead, and _still _smiling.

"Is that all?" he asked as we were pressed close. I could hear his vents whirring. _At least I'm making him work at it._ Without waiting for the reply that I wouldn't give, he hooked his leg around mine and swept my pedes from under me. I grabbed him as I fell, steering so he'd land on the bottom. He heaved upwards to flip us over, pinning me. "I'd heard you might make it difficult, but that wasn't so hard. Kind of pathetic, actually."

Cold fury surged in my Spark. I wasn't about to lose to some whelp barely out of his protoform! Baring my denta in a snarl, I ground out, "Finish it first, _then_ brag."

I bucked up, loosening his hold on me and head-butting him in the face. As he floundered, dazed, I seized his throat and reversed our positions again, slamming him into the ground so hard that something cracked. I'd wiped the smirk from his faceplates, I noticed with a grim smile, and I felt a dizzying satisfaction at his pained gasp of "Yield!"

Noise reached my audios and after a moment I realized that they were cheering. For… me.

They shouted and laughed, yelling praise and advice. I caught the gist of what they were saying and realized in a horrified instant that they wanted me to _terminate _him.

Was that the Decepticon way? Those weak enough to lose weren't worth the energon they consumed? I _could _do it, so easily, just by exerting more pressure on the delicate cables of his neck, or slicing vital wiring with just a twitch of my claws…

I could almost feel the energon spilling over my hands. Something inside me _wanted_ this, wanted it enough to make my fingers twitch just a bit tighter, and I felt the other mech shudder.

I released his throat and stood, taking a step back. There were a few disappointed groans, but they kept cheering all the same. As the crowd began to disperse, I reached down to help the red mech up. He accepted my outstretched hand as other mechs flooded out of the seats, some heading for the hallways, some pausing to give me an appraising stare.

"I thought I was done for," the red mech said.

"You would have had me if you'd been armed," I answered. "Almost had me anyway." After a moment's hesitation, I offered, "I'm Nova."

"Ramrod," he returned. "That was a good fight. We should try that again sometime."

"Er…" I hadn't expected such a drastic turnaround. Moments ago this mech had been going for my Spark and now he sounded as if we'd met over high-grade.

"No hard feelings. You could have offlined me for the sport of it."

"You could have shot me in the face," I answered.

" Why don't you find me sometime and I'll show you some tricks? You've got the makings of a fighter. And that's a smart thing to be around here—Decepticons like fighters."

"Like Megatron?"

Ramrod grinned. "So I've heard."

Starscream was suddenly at my side, Skywarp hanging on my back. Thundercracker was more reserved, but he radiated calm approval.

"That's a good kid!" Skywarp crowed, helm bumping affectionately against mine. He caught sight of Ramrod and shamelessly looked him up and down. "Won a little forfeit, have we?"

"What…?!" I shrugged him off, embarrassed.

Starscream pulled me aside. "Well done," he murmured. That was all, but I heard the pride in his voice and stood a little straighter.

"Nova!"

This was from Ramrod, who had edged away from the interested Skywarp. He gestured to another part of the room. "Want to spar some? I can start teaching you now, if you want…?"

"Uh, sure," I answered uncertainly. I'd never been accepted into any of the social circles back in Iacon, so I had no idea how to act now. I didn't think Skywarp's winking-and-nudging was quite what Ramrod had in mind, and it was certainly nothing like I'd felt around Apis.

Perhaps this was what it was like to make a friend.

* * *

**A/N:** I've been meaning to ask, now that he's been around for twelve chapters, what do you think of Nova? What do you think of him as a character, as a person, his development?


	13. True Decepticon

**13. True Decepticon**

* * *

Ramrod soon showed me just how badly my close-quarters skills needed improvement. He taught in classic Decepticon style: learn or lose body parts. The more we worked together, the more I realized without my luck and determination, he could have taken me apart piece by piece in the arena.

He was an excellent fighter and a perfect Decepticon. Though friendly with me, he didn't hesitate to join in a brawl; his humor was black, his behavior brutal; his hatred of Autobots was apparent.

As my self-repair systems beat out the dents that Ramrod had just put in my plating, I asked him something that had been nagging at me for a few orns.

"Why did you pick a fight with me?"

"Oh, that?" Ramrod laughed. He flopped down on the floor beside me.

"I was Sparked a slave," he said. "I never knew freedom. I had to escape on my own, and ran from the Autobots the whole way down. And then I had to earn my place here. So when I heard who you were, I was angry. I thought that since you hadn't suffered like I had, you hadn't earned your right to be here. I was angry that you could call yourself a Decepticon."

His fingers rubbed back and forth over the scars on his wrists. I hadn't seen this side of him before. "You're much stronger than I am," I said.

"Nah. You can make a name for yourself the same way I did."

He detached a hinged strut from his arm. He gave it a quick spin and it locked straight. "A few decacycles in, I terminated a mech with this. Right through the Spark."

My intakes stuttered. Even Ramrod had killed, the same Ramrod who laughed and helped me up whenever he knocked my pedes out from under me.

"Slagger thought I was getting too far ahead of myself, said he'd teach me a lesson." His laugh was darker this time. "I'm a slow learner."

Because I spent so much of my time in the training grounds, 'cons were always challenging me to anything from a casual spar to a battle for our Sparks. Thanks to Ramrod, I managed to keep both my pride and my life. I never deactivated any of the mechs who challenged me. Killing fellow Decepticons seemed senseless; we needed every mech we could get. I'd never terminated a mech and I wasn't looking forward to it. I hoped it would be easier in the heat of battle.

It seemed enough for all but the most violent mechs that I defeated my opponents. Mechs greeted me by designation in the halls, treated me with greater respect. I held myself with pride, glad that I was making a name for myself.

One problem quickly became apparent. Both Ramrod and I agreed that I had to have weapons.

Starscream dragged me off to his laboratory. I hadn't known he had one; it seemed he hadn't completely cast off his background. The other Seeker gathered supplies and a pair of finished arm rifles of the type his trine wore.

"These should do it," he said. "Nothing fancy, but more efficient than the standard-issue guns."

He put me into temporary stasis for the procedure. I dreamed of Optimus and homesickness flooded my Spark. I wanted so badly to see him again, but it was unlikely I'd be seeing him for a long time. Worse, when I did, it could be on the other end of a blaster.

I woke up with slightly heavier arms and some brand-new programming. Starscream had successfully mounted the rifles beneath my shoulders.

"Everything integrating properly?" Starscream asked. I nodded. "Good. I've isolated them from your systems so you won't randomly shoot things until you learn how to use those. Which you're coming with me to do right now."

With concentration, I learned to fire my new weapons. Starscream sentenced me to practice with one of the trine each orn to improve my aim. Finally he put his hands on his hips and regarded me.

"Hm. You almost look like a real Decepticon now." He cast a critical optic over the flimsy painted symbols on my wings. "Just one more thing."

* * *

I tried to conceal my anxiety as I knelt on the cold floor in front of my creator. Skywarp was jittery and excited as he stood by the door. Thundercracker stood directly behind me, his energy field soothing against mine. Shockwave was also in attendance; he held the charged and crackling brand with which I was soon to become intimately familiar.

"Ordinarily, this is when you would swear the Oath of Allegiance," Starscream said. "But in your case, that's not necessary."

This got Shockwave's attention. "Lord Starscream," he began disapprovingly, "all Decepticons _must_ take the oath."

"Not this one," the Seeker answered, holding out an expectant hand.

" The loyalty of this recruit is already in question, and if he..."

"I can vouch for his loyalty," Starscream interrupted tersely. "Let me be the judge of that."

"But—"

"_Do not question me_," hissed Starscream, taking a threatening step closer. He seized Shockwave's arm and his optics dimmed, a sure sign that they were communicating silently. Shockwave's head jerked towards me, a long and calculating stare. He surrendered the glowing brand, taking a step backwards. Starscream glared at him for a moment longer, then turned to me. I steeled myself, taking comfort from Thundercracker's silent presence at my back.

Starscream laid the crackling mark to my wing. For a klik I felt nothing; then it hit me like the wind over Simfur. My damage sensors went berserk, alerts flashing across my vision and pinging in my processor. My entire frame tensed in pain. I bit down hard on my glossa, a scream building in my vocalizer.

It was only a few kliks, but it felt longer before Starscream pulled back. I cycled air furiously, wings already trembling.

"All right?"

I nodded. "One more?"

Starscream laughed in sadistic delight. "Three," he said. "One on the front and back of each wing."

Without giving me time to panic, he pressed the brand to my other wing. I didn't realize that my motor systems had rebelliously tried to jerk me away until I felt Thundercracker keeping me still. I thought of Optimus, bringing up memories of bright days in Iacon, when strong hands lifted me effortlessly onto impossibly high shoulders, getting me that much closer to the sky. I remembered his deep laugh as I stretched my tiny hands up towards the endless blue. I'd never been afraid of falling; I knew Optimus would catch me.

_Three_. I reviewed the moves Ramrod had taught me. _Ramrod _probably hadn't cried out when he'd been branded. He'd been through too much to crumple under this.

_Four_. The cool darkness of the night sky surrounded me; a warm frame clung closer to mine; handlebars twitched nervously at how high we were. Apis wouldn't make a sound... stronger than I deserved, and yet... and yet she'd held me as though she couldn't bear to be parted from me. I wouldn't disappoint her.

Finally, Starscream backed off. I felt Thundercracker's hands steadying me. I onlined my optics, waiting for the static to clear.

"Show me your hands," Thundercracker said. It was difficult to unclench my fingers. My claws had dug into my plating and energon welled up from the marks. I hadn't even felt it. My wings shook as Thundercracker's hands soothed along the top edge.

The blue Seeker drew away and I looked up to see Starscream.

"Stand up, soldier," he commanded. I rose to my landing struts. My wings tingled and stung, but it was worth it: I was a true Decepticon now.

* * *

Activity increased over the following orbits. More mechs were about, frequenting the training grounds and drilling with their officers. Starscream practically lived in the command center, coming back to his quarters only for energon and recharge.

Starscream put me on the duty roster. Because I was a rookie, I was assigned the most boring task imaginable: monitor duty.

During these five megacycles of terminal boredom, I became acquainted with Soundwave and his cassettes. I'd heard Soundwave was a telepath, which both unnerved and intrigued me. His little minions formed his own personal spy network. The eldest were Frenzy and Rumble, twin terrors. Reports varied on which designation went with which paintjob. I suspected that they kept switching to add to the confusion. They were about half the size of an average mech, but made up for it in trouble.

The others had forms based on alien creatures. Ravage stalked through the corridors on four legs, seeking conversations to carry back to Soundwave. There were fliers, too, Buzzsaw and Laserbeak.

I was surprised that Soundwave and his cassettes hadn't been separated after Axis, and I mentioned this to the twins.

"We were," the blue one told me.

"But they couldn't hold us," the other piped up.

"So we all escaped."

"All except Ratbat."

"Good riddance."

"You're telling me."

"No room for traitors here."

"What happened to Ratbat?" I asked. The designation was familiar. Both twins scowled.

"Gone."

I couldn't get information out of the two, and I was too nervous to ask Soundwave. It would be many vorns before I heard Ratbat's designation again.

Before monitor duty drove me insane with boredom, someone (again, probably Starscream) cleared me for more interesting assignments. The Stealth Unit commander, Hardtop, showed up as I trained with Ramrod.

"Everyone said I'd find you here," he said. "Getting twitchy underground?"

It _was _grinding on my nerves. There were places in the Kaon base high enough to fly in, but they were nothing compared to the open sky.

"I've got room for you topside. You can serve on a Stealth Unit. With your colors, you won't even need to get repainted."

It was better than monitor duty.

I grew to know Upper Kaon as well as the underground complex. I learned to move soundlessly and use shadows for cover, to blend into my surroundings and to become one with the dead city. The unit was a close-knit group full of superstitions and traditions. The rituals became second-nature to me. It was all to bring us closer to the dead city, building the mythology that made the Autobots afraid to venture near the concealed entrances to our base.

I got along well with most mechs in my unit, but there were those who still regarded me with scorn and suspicion. I threw it right back at them. Most of them were groundpounders unworthy of my attention.

When the other "Ghosts" found out that I had never killed, half of them saw it as a grand joke.

"Saving yourself for someone special?" Spotlight ribbed. He was one of the ones I'd met before being placed in his unit.

I snorted and gave him a shove. "Shut up."

"Or does the thought make you sick?" Fogscythe sneered from behind me. He was among those who'd rejected me. "The thought of ripping out someone's Spark with your bare claws offends your delicate sensibilities? Or is it just that you don't want to terminate a buddy of yours?"

I was about to respond with some suggestions for where he could shove his words before facing me in the arena, but at that moment, Hardtop reappeared.

"We're on," he said. "Autobot patrol near the third sector entrance. Move out, Ghosts."

The Autobots were completely unprepared. My task was to keep any from getting away; as the fastest in the unit, I'd have the best chance of catching them. I averted my optics from the slaughter under the pretense of checking for more.

Just when I thought it was over, Fogscythe called out to me. He shoved a blue-and-white Autobot down in front of me, yanking the mech's head back cruelly as he tried to protect himself. Someone had already taken care of his weapons.

"I brought you a present," Fogscythe said. "Since you were stuck on the perimeter, I thought I'd leave you some fun, out of the goodness of my Spark."

I balked, looking down at the helpless Autobot. Fogscythe saw my hesitation.

"You're playing with the big mechs now," he sneered, claws digging viciously into his captive's helm. "Time to grow up."

This wasn't what I'd wanted. This wasn't how I'd hoped it would be, quick and easy, a wound cauterized by the heat of battle. Instead I faced an already-defeated opponent, unarmed and defenseless and afraid.

"Are you a Decepticon or aren't you?"

The question stung. Of _course_ I was a Decepticon. I'd chosen my side. I glared at Fogscythe and he smirked, guessing my answer.

"Prove it."

I hesitated a moment longer. Hope glimmered in the Autobot's optics, and in the end, that spurred me on. Kinder to do it quickly.

I aimed one of my arm rifles and fired. It was over quickly; there was no time for him to feel any pain as his Spark flared and died. His body fell forward to fade to gray at my pedes.

I met Fogscythe's optics, taking no satisfaction in what I'd done. Rather than say anything, he turned and stalked off in the opposite direction.

Though Spotlight clapped me on the shoulder and Hardtop nodded approvingly, I couldn't help but feel as though I'd lost the confrontation.

* * *

I went straight to my quarters and lay in the dark, unable to recharge. The circuitry behind my optics was hot. I shuttered them, but I still saw the Autobot's face.

I didn't notice the other Seeker until a gentle hand stroked my wing. Without looking I knew it was Thundercracker. We said nothing.

Finally I databurst the memory to him. He didn't stop his soft, comforting motions, and he didn't speak, but his sympathy was apparent. I tucked my head into my elbow, hiding my face, and let him lull me into recharge.


	14. Battle

**14. Battle**

* * *

"Remind me again why I have to do this?"

"Would you just suck it up?" Starscream snarled, more than finished with my pestering. "You're a Seeker, and Seekers come in trines. You should be praying that we haven't fallen even. I haven't designed maneuvers for four."

"And flying solo is no fun," Skywarp added from behind me. Thundercracker wasn't with us as we headed towards an upper hall; I'd scarcely seen him since that night several decacycles ago when I had terminated my first Autobot. I had sent two more Sparks on their way since then. One I had gunned down as he tried to flee; the other had come at me with an energon blade, but I'd managed to turn his own weapon against him. Neither had been easier than the first. I couldn't help but wonder about each mech I'd killed. Had he owned slaves? Did he leave behind a sparkling or a bondmate?

Skywarp was still talking. "With a trine you've got both of your wings. You're whole. You see the sky and you can take it. You can't do that with one or two, but three?" He grinned at me, warmth in his optics. "Three can get you anywhere."

The hallway ended abruptly before us. For a moment I was confused, but then Starscream soared up through a Seeker-sized gap in the ceiling. We followed and I found myself in a tower, perhaps three hundred astrometers tall, but without stairs or lifts of any sort. The different levels consisted of rings running around the inside of the tower, about twenty astrometers apart. The occasional walkway spanned the tower's diameter, but most of the area was open air. No windows broke the walls, but the top of the structure had been shattered, letting the sky show through.

And the _Seekers_. They were everywhere. There couldn't have been more than sixty mechs here, but it was still more of us than I'd ever seen. They came in all colors of the standard spectrum. Their chatter drifted into my audios. As we entered, the closest optics regarded us and the odd salute was thrown before the Seekers went about their business. All shared the same haughty bearing.

"What is this place?"

"This is where the Seekers stay," Skywarp responded.

"But it's open. Wouldn't the Autobots—"

"In case you didn't notice, there aren't many Autobot fliers," Starscream said. "The opening can't be spotted from the ground, so they have no idea anyone's inside this tower."

Thundercracker landed gracefully before his trineleader. "There's only one left out," he reported. "Acid Storm's third."

"No word from the other Rainmakers?"

"Nothing. They were separated under the Axis Decree."

"Hm. He'll have to do."

We followed Thundercracker to the second level. Another blue Seeker, not as dark as Thundercracker, waited there for us.

"Designation and function," Starscream demanded, landing. The blue Seeker saluted.

"Hurricane, Rainmaker third, Decepticon warrior." His voice was gloomy and slow.

"Acknowledged. Correction: Rainmaker trineleader."

If Hurricane was affected by this, he gave no sign. Instead he responded, "Noted. Hurricane, Rainmaker trineleader, Decepticon warrior."

Starscream nodded, then summoned me forward with a flick of his hand. "This is Nova, trineless, Decepticon cadet."

_/Not warrior?/_

_/Not until you've seen battle,/ _Skywarp supplied helpfully.

"He is your right wing now. You will teach him to fly with a trine; in battle, he will be your responsibility."

"Understood, Commander Starscream." There was audible reluctance in Hurricane's voice. Without warning, my creator reached over and grabbed him by the throat, dragging him forward to hiss into his face.

"If you fail to bring him back, I will personally tear off your wings before throwing you off the Tower. _And I'll make it slow_. Understood?"

Again, this time rasping through the dangerous grip on his vocal processors, Hurricane answered, "Understood, Commander Starscream."

Starscream let him go and the blue Seeker stood to attention as though nothing had happened. Next Starscream's optics focused on me. I flinched, half-expecting him to lash out at me, too.

"Designation and function."

Taking the format from Hurricane, I answered, "Nova, Rainmaker second, Decepticon cadet."

Starscream nodded approvingly. "Acknowledged."

"Technically they're not really the Rainmakers," Skywarp pointed out. "Not without the others."

"Irrelevant. Trineleader Hurricane, I leave this in your hands."

Starscream gave the blue Seeker one last warning glare before taking to the air, his wingmates right behind, and re-entering the base. I looked back at Hurricane in time to see him droop. He scanned me.

"You're hardly more than a protoform," he said. "I've been demoted to sparkling-sitter."

I took offense. "For your information, I've been out of my protoform for a centivorn and a half."

This seemed to amuse him. "I've been out of my protoform for ten million vorns. I'm not impressed. The commander has a cruel sense of humor." He sighed. "Everything's cruel now… the entire world is cruel."

"What are you going on about?" I asked, edging away slightly.

"You wouldn't understand," Hurricane said glumly.

* * *

The time was close now. Because the Stealth Units' activities were pared down to a minimum, I had plenty of time to work with my new wingmate.

Hurricane and I weren't well-suited to each other; we were a trine out of necessity rather than compatibility. He wasn't hostile, but neither did he seem very interested in being my wingmate. I always felt out of place. Hurricane's frequent references to death and his melancholy demeanor weren't lost on me, but I had to bear with his oddities. If Starscream and Thundercracker had learned to exist alongside Skywarp without murdering him, then I could adapt to working with Hurricane.

As if the endless preparations weren't enough, I discovered that the door that linked my quarters to Starscream's and his trine's was glitching and occasionally failed to close all the way. Since Starscream hadn't noticed, I didn't tell him. I was able to hear things that Starscream most likely hadn't intended. Some of it I'd rather _not _have heard—but I could always close the door manually to save myself some mental scarring.

But sometimes, I caught words that weren't meant for my audios. My training with the Stealth Units enabled me to stand perfectly still and silent beside the slightly-open door, audios tuned to their finest.

"—should take him with you. He should know what's happening." That was Thundercracker, and Starscream answered him.

"He knows no more than every other common soldier."

I knew instinctively that they were talking about me.

"But he's _not_ a common soldier, Screamer." Skywarp, of course.

"Don't _call_ me that, and why shouldn't he be?"

"Because he's yours. Because he's—"

"I can't show favoritism to anyone. If he's seen to be getting help, the rest will never accept him. Let him prove himself. I can't do anything for him."

"Starscream is right. If he earns his way, the rest will respect him." Thundercracker again. "But that doesn't mean you should ignore him. A recruit with his potential would have gotten your attention by now. At least give him an opportunity. If he's anything like his creators, he deserves a command position."

I jolted at that. Thundercracker knew the identity of my other creator?

"We'll see how he does in battle," Starscream allowed. "After that, we'll see."

The conversation ended and I retreated to my berth, sipping a cube as I sat. It warmed my Spark to know that Skywarp and Thundercracker believed in me, but I understood Starscream's logic. The best way to ensure respect from my comrades was to earn it. There were no shortcuts; Starscream had gotten me here, but now I was on my own.

* * *

Several orns later, Starscream and his trine appeared in the Tower.

"Fall in," the red Seeker barked. I followed Hurricane to the Tower's base, lining up with the others. Starscream, Thundercracker, and Skywarp were the Command Trine. In addition to being the Decepticons' leader, Starscream was his own Air Commander.

" Everything starts now," Starscream said, his voice amplified to reach all of us. "Today we take back the city. Once we emerge from hiding, we'll be at open war." He smirked coldly. "And this time we will succeed.

"A simultaneous attack from air and ground," Starscream continued, laying out the battle plan. "Our objective is to destroy the Autobot Headquarters in Kaon and rout the force stationed there. I know this is usually bombers' work, but we're somewhat short on those right now. Let the ground troops take care of the 'bots; all of them have been ordered to keep away from the building. Once the primary objective is accomplished, cause as much destruction to the Autobots as you see fit. Try not to destroy our own city."

Starscream paused. "Soundwave informs me that the others are ready. Decepticons…"

The anticipation sharpened, all optics on Starscream. I was caught up in the anticipation of the moment, though my Spark was chilled. I didn't feel ready for battle. What if I encountered a bot I knew? Nobody had trained me for that…

Starscream relished the attention.

"…transform and rise up."

The sounds of transformation and then engines reverberated around the Tower, growing to a roar. I locked onto Hurricane's energy signature, ensuring that I wouldn't lose him in the chaos.

_/Just follow me./_ Even Hurricane's signal was gloomy.

Lacking true optics in my alt-mode, I could only imagine the sight: Decepticons pouring from the secret entrances to our underground base, Seekers erupting from the Tower in a deadly swarm. In this form I could tell the difference between Autobot and Decepticon through signals in their energy signatures.

Hurricane's engines screamed like gale-force winds as we arrowed towards Autobot Headquarters. Below us were brief smatterings of combat as Autobot patrols encountered more than they'd bargained for. The main force would be completely unprepared for our sudden assault.

I could give the Autobots credit; in the thirty kliks or so of warning they'd had, they were halfway prepared to fight. But halfway wasn't enough.

_/Open fire!/_ came Starscream's command. I followed Hurricane through a gyro-spinning attack run, firing as we went and listening to the satisfying explosions behind us.

Just for a moment I wondered how many Autobots would offline in the collapse of the now-fiery structure. How many Sparks would be extinguished? But I wouldn't see their faces fill with horror, their optics go dark, their bodies fade to gray. I wouldn't even hear their screams.

I couldn't think about that right now. I continued to fire on the building alongside the others. The Autobots turned the automated cannons on us, trying to save their base. A Seeker nearby was hit and began to tumble from the sky; his wingmates dove to catch him.

_/Follow me,/_ Hurricane signaled. He flew straight towards a cluster of guns.

_/Are you _crazy_?/_ I commed back, but he gave no answer. I followed him—what else could I do?—and we fired on the cannons together. A stray shot grazed my nosecone and I had to pull up. My wingmate didn't pause to plan or reconsider as he screamed past again, straight into the line of fire. Two of the Autobots' guns were rendered nonfunctional.

I caught the tail end of a faint transmission unconsciously sent by Hurricane. _/Acid Storm!/_

He made another pass, ignoring it when he was hit, this time broadcasting _/Sunstorm!/_

As he prepared for another run, I transformed and grabbed his wings, pulling him back. _/What is _wrong _with you?/ _I demanded. _/Leave it! We're needed elsewhere!/_

Hurricane transformed and threw me off. _/You wouldn't understand!/_

_/This isn't the time. If you're going to attack those guns, at least do it in a way that we won't get ripped to shreds!/_

_/Am I the commanding officer or are you?/_

_/Our orders are to destroy the Autobot Headquarters, not get ourselves terminated by attacking blindly! Do you _want_ to die?/_

_/Yes!/_ He drew away. _/You wouldn't understand! Go blow up the building, for all I care!/_

_/I don't leave my trinemates. Now stop being stubborn and we can—/_

_/That's an order, cadet!/_

I didn't hesitate. _/Then I'm afraid I'll have to disobey, _sir_./_ I rocketed over his head, flipped over, and aimed a blow at the back of his neck as I had with Dent-Nose. It worked, especially now that Ramrod had taught me where to aim. Hurricane nearly fell from the sky, but I grabbed him beneath the arms and flew to where the Decepticons had gathered. I landed and shoved his limp frame at a clump of mechs. "He needs a medic." Then I took off again, heading back towards the Autobot base.

The Seekers didn't stop their attack until the building was well and truly demolished. Only then did I pay much attention to what was happening on the ground. There had been fairly even numbers to begin with. Now the tide was about to turn.

_/Fliers, provide air support,/_ was the new order. Devoid of a trine to work with, I improvised, making my attack alone. I stayed in bipedal mode for easier aim; I didn't want to gun down any of our own mechs in the milling crowd.

Most upsetting were the unmoving heaps of gray metal. I thought of Undertaker and shivered. If Hurricane had allowed himself to be terminated, he'd have fallen on the Autobot side. When we found him, he would have been only a stripped, wingless shell…

I lost count of the shots I fired, and flew too fast to see how many mechs fell in my wake. It was for the best that I didn't know exactly how many Autobots I'd killed. It all blurred into one long stream. A shot punched through my wing, barely missing the primary fuel line. I managed to remain airborne, and that was the only serious wound I sustained throughout the battle.

The Autobots fled after holding their position for two megacycles. They carried their wounded and as many of their dead as they could. I was certain that, had we not been in such a state ourselves, Starscream would have had us run them down and slaughter them all. But many of our own were deactivated or injured.

I should have sought a medic, but instead I wandered between gray corpses, observing the dead and praying that I wouldn't find a familiar face—from either side—among them. Perhaps I was searching for survivors, though I wasn't sure what I would do if I found a living Autobot.

Sobbing drew my attention towards the body of a mech who looked vaguely familiar. I approached cautiously, raising an arm to aim as I stepped around the shell. I saw red-and-green plating and my optics widened in surprised recognition. "You?"

Dent-Nose looked up. "Y-you!" He scrabbled backwards on his aft, cowering against his terminated friend. "D-don't terminate me, p-please!"

"I'm not going to terminate you," I answered, lowering my arm-rifle and glancing around. Nobody else was nearby. No one would see.

"Y-you're not?"

"Get off your aft," I said, reaching out to help. He jerked away, terrified.

"Don't t-touch me!"

I sighed and dropped my arms. "Get up," I repeated. He complied shakily.

"What are you going to d-do to me?"

"Nothing," I answered. "The rest of the Autobots ran north. You should follow them before someone sees you."

Dent-Nose hesitated. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because you're not worth deactivating. Get running."

He turned and fled, stumbling and tripping. I sighed and turned away. I'd never have to deal with him again.

* * *

The orange Seeker who had been hit had offlined; his wingmates huddled together over his shell, making me shiver as I passed. Starscream, Thundercracker, and Skywarp stood a bit closer together than usual.

"Where's Hurricane?" Skywarp asked.

"With a medic." _I think._ "Starscream? Do you want to think again about pairing me with the _suicidal maniac?_"

Starscream arched an optic ridge. "Deal with it."

"Hurricane's mental state has been called into question before," Thundercracker reminded him. "The loss of his wingmates was hard on him."

"We made at least five undefended attack runs on the Autobot cannons," I told them. "He's _trying _to get killed, and I'm not keen on the idea."

"Just stay alive, and sooner or later you won't have to worry about him anymore," Starscream unhelpfully advised.

I sighed and excused myself. Now that we held Kaon, mechs were already taking over the buildings, regenerating the old base. Unsure what to do or where to go, I returned to the underground facility, heading for the training grounds. No sooner had I entered than a familiar hand seized my arm and pulled me back into the hall.

"Ramrod! I was looking for y—"

"Come with me," he interrupted, already tugging me down the hall. From the looks of it, it was another barracks. Ramrod keyed open a door and pulled me inside. His quarters were bare of personal items; a few cubes of energon were stacked beside one of the berths.

"I was looking for you," I finished as the door hissed shut.

"Me too," he said quietly. Unexpectedly, he reached out to grab my shoulders. "Primus, I'm glad you're all right. I was worried." I realized that it had been Ramrod's first battle to—it was easy to forget that he was younger than I, so of _course_ he hadn't seen true combat before either—and on the ground things must have been worse than in the air.

"Primus, it was a nightmare. We could hardly tell anyone apart. It was it was like the Pit: everyone was shouting or screaming or dying…"

"But you made it," I said. I was trying to comfort myself as well; Ramrod's words let the shock of the battle catch up to me. I locked my joints to keep from shaking.

He nodded, optics lost and haunted. "It was horrible."

_What would Optimus say?_ I wondered. I wished I could comfort others as easily as Optimus, but I always felt awkward in the face of someone else's emotions. Finally, I settled on "I know."

Ramrod sighed, shook his head, and looked up with brighter optics than before. "I'll be fine," he said, sounding more like his usual self. "I'll get some recharge and I'll be fine. Hey, get some help for that wing, it looks painful."

Now that Ramrod mentioned it, I could feel the ache spreading from the wound. I nodded and began to leave.

"Hey, Nova?" Ramrod called. I paused, looking back. He smiled. "Thanks for listening. It helps." His smile turned into an embarrassed grin. "Now I'm getting mushy..."

"Anytime," I said, glad that he was in better spirits. Something nagged at me, something I... oh. Hurricane.

My face must have tipped him off. "What's wrong?"

"I, ah, well..." I explained about my confrontation with Hurricane. He snickered, then grew serious.

"I hope Hurricane's in a better mood when he wakes up," he said. "And that Starscream's happy with what you did today. Otherwise, well, you _did_ attack a commanding officer."

"I hadn't looked at it like that."

Ramrod shrugged, shaking his head. "Well. Whatever he says, I'll speak up for you, Nova."

"Thanks. But it'll be all right." _I hope._


	15. Punishment and Sedition

**A/N:** In celebration of this massive story and the many AUs it has generated, I created a LiveJournal community for it. Remember, however, that many of the AUs, etc. contain **SPOILERS** through chapter 17. The community's name is Rise Revolution, and a proper link is in place on my profile.

Enjoy!

* * *

**15. Punishment and Sedition**

* * *

The Decepticons busied themselves relocating to the surface. Since most of the city had been destroyed, however, there were few structures to move back into. Besides, we had more important matters to take care of, such as caring for our wounded. There was a shortage in both medics and supplies, leaving us to improvise as well as we could. Thundercracker played medic for me, doing a temporary patch-job on my wing. It wasn't much, but it would protect the damaged area until my self-repair systems healed the wound on their own.

Hurricane, as it turned out, was _not _in a better mood when he awoke. I was summoned to the Tower the moment I was off of medbay duty—without a doubt the worst assignment I had ever received. The "medbay" was in a constant state of pandemonium, since nobody seemed exactly sure what to do for the wounded. The cries of injured mechs and the stench of drying, corrosive energon filled the air; the place felt stifling and claustrophobic. I had never felt so helpless. I had no medical training whatsoever. I was glad to get out of there, even though I knew I was heading for punishment. Another megacycle in the medbay would have been penalty enough for any crime.

Starscream was there, looking harried. I could hear the agitation in his voice when he snapped, "Designation and function, soldier."

_As if you didn't know._ "Nova, Rainmaker second, Decepticon warrior."

Hurricane snorted, glaring at me with his arms crossed over his chest. "You're undeserving of either title."

"Enough," Starscream snapped. "What's so important that it could possibly merit my attention? I have more important things to do."

"This walking malfunction attacked me," Hurricane accused, pointing.

"Only to keep you from getting both of us killed," I answered, bristling. "At least I'm not cowardly enough to run away from a fight through suicide…!"

"We are already discussing your punishment without you making it worse," my wingmate hissed. He turned back to Starscream. "He attacked a commanding officer, which constitutes treason—as you well know—and he should be dealt with accordingly."

"I saved your life, you—"

"Silence!" Starscream commanded, and I bit my glossa, clenching my fists. "His actions were intended to save you from yourself, Trineleader, and in this he was successful. The only offense I see is disobeying orders."

"Only? _Only?_" Hurricane spat. "It may not matter to you, _sir_, but to everyone else in this army insubordination is a serious offense. We can't all get off as easily as _some_."

"Mind your words," Starscream said coolly, narrowing his optics. "But you're right. Insubordination is like a virus and must be crushed before it spreads. A shift of the usual, then."

Hurricane, who had looked ready to erupt, visibly balked. "A… an entire shift, Commander? Isn't that a bit much, sir?"

"You said it yourself, Trineleader. He can't get off easily, can he? Now carry on."

He took off without so much as a glance in my direction and vanished from sight beyond the Tower's rim. Hurricane's ire had turned to bewilderment. He seemed lost for words, but he gestured for me to follow. Many of the mechs we passed greeted me or congratulated me on my performance in battle; I didn't feel as though I had done anything worth their praise. My first battle had been an experience I could live without.

I knew many of these mechs by designation and even more by sight; it pleased me that I had managed to integrate so well into Decepticon society.

Hurricane finally stopped near an entrance to the training grounds.

"Stand with your back to the wall," he ordered. I obeyed, more anxious by the klik. "Spread out your arms."

"Why?"

"Just do it."

I hesitated, but complied. Starscream wouldn't have allowed this if it were life-threatening.

I began to have second thoughts as Hurricane used the ominous, paint-streaked chains hanging from the wall to bind each of my wrists. "You're lucky we don't get acid rain anymore," he muttered. "They used to do this outside. As far as I know no one's ever been terminated like this."

That didn't strike me as particularly reassuring.

"And I'll be here an entire shift?"

"Apparently." He finished fastening my wrists and dug about in a wall compartment for a few kliks, eventually coming up with a vocal inhibitor. This he fastened over my face. "I'll be back in five megacycles. Good luck."

And then he was gone, leaving me standing at the wall. I leaned against it, taking some strain off of my landing struts. They didn't hurt yet, but after five megacycles, they would.

It seemed this punishment was more psychological than physical. The position alone made me burn in humiliation, and then there were the mechs who looked at me as they passed in and out of the training grounds, one of the most crowded areas of the entire base. Some were sympathetic, but others snickered and nudged their friends to make sure they noticed me. I responded with a glare to maintain some dignity, but it just amused them further.

Thirty cycles ticked slowly past on my chronometer before a pair of mechs approached, grinning.

"I know you," one of them chortled. "You're that Autobrat who gets to stay in Megatron's quarters."

_What?_

"Looks like Starscream's little favorite isn't so favored anymore," the other added. If Starscream's intention had been to dispel rumors of favoritism, well, it looked like his strategy was working.

"Looks like you've learned your place," the first mech said, lifting a hand and scraping his claws down my wing. I jerked in the chains, but I could barely move. It hurt like the Pit, and I was glad that I could not scream while wearing the inhibitor. That would only reward them.

It seemed that this psychological punishment could very quickly turn physical.

The second mech gripped the tip of my other wing. I flinched and tried to twitch it away, but he held fast, grinning.

"What's wrong?" he asked, pinching maliciously. "Don't like that?"

"I don't think he does," his companion answered. "Poor little Seeker. You're being punished. We'll help the lesson stick!"

He dragged his claws across my cockpit, dragging out an audio-splitting screech from the glass. My helm clacked loudly against the wall as I struggled.

One of the Decepticons yelped. The pain subsided and I onlined my optics in time to see the first mech hit the floor hard. Ramrod flipped the second over his arm and the stranger landed on top of his companion.

"What's the matter?" the red mech asked cheerfully. "Don't like picking on someone who can fight back?" Ramrod placed a foot on the top mech's chest, resting his arms—and his weight—on his knee. The two flailed uselessly. "No? Then why don't you mechs run along and play somewhere else?"

The two mechs fled the moment he released them. He turned to me with a grin. "Hey there, Nova." I wondered whether I could express gratitude through optics alone. "Looks like Screamer wasn't happy. Happens to all of us."

_Even you_? I wondered, smiling at the idea of Ramrod standing here in my place. It was easy to imagine him riling some officer or other. He offered up his comm signal and I opened a link.

_/Thank you./_

"Don't mention it. How long are you here?"

_/About 4.743 more megacycles./_

"That long?" Ramrod's expression darkened. Then he was cheerful again. "Well, it just so happens that I have this shift off. I'll be your knight in shining armor. You won't have to worry about glitches like those anymore." He grinned wickedly. "We wouldn't want anyone taking advantage of that cute little helpless pose and doing impure things to you… unless that's how you like it, of course."

_/Shut up, slagger!/_ Ramrod knew perfectly well that I had never interfaced; I'd let it slip once during our training and he'd teased me mercilessly about it ever since.

"You didn't strike me as that type anyway."

I refrained from asking what type I _did _strike him as. Ramrod squatted comfortably in front of me.

"So how did you annoy the Screaming One?" he asked.

_/He's hardly spoken to me in the past few orbits, with all that's been going on./_

I knew Starscream had been busy organizing everything, but I missed the way we had been in Iacon, when we had all the time we needed to talk. I had neither fully appreciated, nor taken advantage of, the opportunity to speak with him. After we'd come here, I never had the chance.

Ramrod nodded slowly, then glanced around and switched to internal comm.

_/All right, Nova, I'm about to talk sedition./ _That word again. That was the second time this orn. Starscream had all but accused Hurricane when my wingmate had talked about insubordination… what had that been about?

_/I won't tell Starscream./_

_/ Normally a mech gets the wall for a megacycle, maybe two, three for the worst offenses. Never this long. So, why do you think you're being punished like this?/_

_/Because… I… disobeyed orders./_

_/ Mechs disobey orders all the time for worse reasons than yours. Starscream is afraid of you./_

I goggled at him. Starscream, afraid? Of _me_? _/What?/_

_/You make him nervous. The Decepticons like you. You're more popular than you realize./_

_/What has that got to do with anything?/_

_/Mechs don't like Starscream… they don't trust him. Not everyone accepts him as their leader./_

_/Why not? It's his by right. He was Megatron's second./_

_/I don't know. It's something that goes back to before Axis. I don't know what it's all about, but there's a lot of mechs who'd like to serve someone else./_

_/Why take it out on me? There are plenty of mechs who are well-liked. Why isn't he worried about them?/_

_/Because there's something more about you./_

_/Like what?/_

_/I don't know. But you're a threat to him, Nova, understand? And if you were to replace him—/_

_/That's treason!/_

_/But if you _did_, mechs would support you./_

_/Why? I'm nothing special. So I won a few fights, but…/_

_/Megatron started out as a gladiator, too./_

Echoes of an overheard conversation in Prime's office rang out from my memory.

_I won't let you turn him into another Megatron._

_He was Sparked that way._

_/But _I'm not Megatron!_/_

_/I don't know what everyone sees in you. You look like every other Seeker to me. But to the others, there's something about you that makes them stare. _That's_ what Starscream is afraid of./_

I collected my reeling thoughts. _/Starscream is the leader,/ _I told him. _/He's kept us together for this long, and he's more capable than most mechs could ever hope to be./_

_/ I didn't mean anything by it./ _He spoke aloud. "Okay. I spy with my little optic, something beginning with 'g'…"

* * *

Five megacycles of standing gagged and chained to a wall turned out to be far more interesting than five megacycles of monitor duty. By the time Hurricane came to release me, I'd accumulated a gaggle of protectors, members of the Stealth Unit or mechs I'd faced in the arena, friends of mine and Ramrod's who chattered as though I weren't pinned in such an awkward position. They turned the whole thing into a glorious joke rather than a punishment, and better still, nobody came to torment me after Ramrod's intervention.

I had ample opportunity to think about what Ramrod had told me. I searched mechs' words for signs of discontent with Starscream's leadership. Now that I knew to look, I was amazed at how much I found. As soon as I was free, I extricated myself from the crowd and stole away to the cool darkness of the Archives.

The Archivist glided up silently, optics glowing like twin red moons. "Nova," he said softly. "I thought I might be seeing you."

He raised an arm as I fell into step beside him, but did not touch me. "You're searching for something," he said, guiding me towards the Hall of Memory even before I had told him where I wanted to go.

"Yes. I'm looking for someone's memory. Someone who has seen Megatron and Starscream together."

"I thought so. Soundwave, then."

"Soundwave?" I asked as he pushed me gently down before a console. "But he's still online. I thought you said—"

"Soundwave is the exception. He is… careful about which memories he chooses to load into the Archives." With deft hands he linked me into the console. I felt his presence more intensely through our shared connection to the database. "I will assist you. You're searching for Starscream and Megatron. As though you were searching your own memory, if you concentrate on those two you will find them. From there it should be easy… Soundwave's memories are very organized."

The sensation was like floating, leaving myself behind and drifting into someone else's memory files. It was unsettling, but the Archivist acted as my anchor and my guide, keeping me connected to my own body as I grew used to the feeling. Soon enough Soundwave's memory bank registered what I was looking for and brought up a flood of memories to peruse at my leisure. Through the red visor, I explored Megatron's and Starscream's relationship, their dynamics.

They shared twisted camaraderie and strange enmity. At times the two of them could be civil, even friendly, but these moments were rare and confusing. The rest of the time they were explosive in their conflicts, like two volatile chemicals that couldn't mix. They rarely agreed on anything, down to the smallest detail. Whenever they met, they fought; when they fought, they came to blows more often than not. Megatron inevitably won.

There were times when Megatron would turn on his second-in-command and beat him half into stasis lock. For each of these attacks was an assassination attempt by Starscream: poisoned energon, explosives, even a casual shot to the back—there was no method to kill a mech that Starscream did not attempt.

Each mech was vicious, cunning, ambitious, arrogant, and unstable. I harbored no illusions that either was a "good" mech. It was clear that somehow, despite all of their fighting and apparent hatred of each other, they made the Decepticons great… one without the other could not.

Only Starscream remained, having finally achieved his goal of leading the Decepticons… but he was incomplete, only half of the equation.

When I disconnected from the console, a rush of dizziness struck me. The Archivist steadied me and offered an energon cube.

"It can be disorienting the first time," he said. I drank the energon gratefully. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

"The other Decepticons don't trust Starscream because he hated Megatron," I said. Ramrod hadn't known this because he never saw the two of them together; he hadn't been Sparked until after Megatron's termination.

The Archivist nodded. "Starscream is capable… but he is not Megatron. Hold out your hands, Nova. I have a gift for you."

The abrupt change in subject took me by surprise. I held out my hands obediently and the Archivist laid twin long, silver swords in my palms. I looked up at him oddly.

"I already have weapons. Swords are outdated. I don't need these."

"Look closer."

I did, and felt a stab of recognition. I had just seen Megatron wield these. "Why?"

"Because they will help you. When these 'outdated' weapons save your life, you'll appreciate them."

He took one of the swords and circled around me. "Starscream carried them… here."

He pressed the blade lengthwise along the base of my wing. Automatically, my plating and wiring shifted to accommodate it, disguising the weapon as part of my wing. I put the other one to my other wing. The swords were hidden in plain sight, perfectly matching my plating.

The door slid open and Starscream entered. I didn't know why, but I was glad that Megatron's weapons were concealed.

"Nova," he said. "I've been looking for you. It's late."

I checked my chronometer to find that I'd been in here for megacycles. I'd completely lost track of the time.

I followed Starscream from the Archives. I walked behind him, pondering what I'd seen, but I didn't want to mention it.

"Why did you put me in Megatron's quarters?" I asked. He looked surprised that I knew.

"For convenience," he said. "I wanted you to be near me. Besides, it's not like the previous occupant will be returning." He hesitated. "Tomorrow, I'd like you to accompany me to the command center. We'll be planning our next move, and it would be valuable for you to know what we're doing."

I remembered the conversation I'd overheard between Starscream and his wingmates. It seemed Starscream had decided that he could give me the opportunity. The knowledge that he trusted me made me flutter my wings happily.

"Are you injured?" Starscream asked suddenly.

"No. Why?"

He didn't look at me, just continued to walk. As I watched him, I realized that he'd been worried about me. He must have known that mechs would take advantage of my punishment, but nobody had told him about Ramrod.

What Ramrod had said may have been true; perhaps Starscream was nervous that I would undermine him. But he was still my creator. Starscream's affection was hidden, but it was there.

Rather than follow in Starscream's footsteps, I drew up to walk alongside him. He glanced at me, then away, accepting; I smiled to myself.


	16. Challenge

**A/N: **None of the Decepticon generals are OCs. They're mostly obscure comic characters from the TF wiki.

Enjoy!

* * *

**16. Challenge**

* * *

Thundercracker accompanied us to the command center, but not Skywarp. The third trinemate couldn't remain still for long enough.

_/Don't speak unless I say otherwise,/ _Starscream ordered as we entered. Several mechs were already inside; Soundwave and Shockwave I recognized, but not the others. Starscream pointed them out silently. The first was a mid-sized cycle with burnished gold plating. _/Trannis. One of the few competent generals left from Megatron's time./ _Next, three mechs seated all in a row: one was blue and white, one red and blue, the third orange. _/Legonis, Seizer, Octus. Each lazier and more arrogant than the last. They've elbowed their way in since Axis. I wouldn't put anything past them./ _The next mech was a shuttle-type. _/Skystalker. Don't listen to a word that he says. He's not to be trusted./_

_/Are _any_ of them trustworthy?/_

_/Everyone in this room has put his own interests before the cause at some point, except perhaps Soundwave. He and Shockwave are the only ones I'd trust any further than I could throw them, although Shockwave was a bit too loyal to Megatron./_

He went on to the final two. One was a green-and-black Seeker. _/Thunderwing, trineless, a scientist… and Flamewar./ _He shot me a sly grin. _/That's a femme, by the way./_

_/Oh, shut __up_._/_

It was hard to miss. Flamewar's curvy frame was more exaggerated than Apis's, even more than Andromeda's.

_/Watch out for her. A talented general, but… well. You'll find out./_

He took a seat in the vacant position. Thundercracker and I stood behind him. By now I was used to the curious optics that turned my way: frightened and greedy, in the case of Skystalker and the three smaller mechs; coolly considering from Thunderwing and Trannis; appreciative from Flamewar.

"Well?" Starscream said. "Report."

"The medical situation is dire, Lord Starscream," Thunderwing spoke up. Starscream didn't look at him; the trineless Thunderwing was an outcast from Seeker society. "There are too few mechs with the proper training to repair all of our injured, and we're still short on supplies."

"No word of the Constructicons?" Starscream asked Soundwave.

"Negative," the Communications Officer replied in his usual monotone. "Time of escape: two point six five decavorns ago. Current location: unknown."

"Then we need to make do with what we have. We need more soldiers. The Autobots could overwhelm us in a direct assault on Kaon. We need to strike first."

"If I may, Lord Starscream?" Shockwave. "Uprisings have gone as planned in five city-states; more mechs may be expected as soon as they reach Kaon. A massing Autobot force in Tarn has blocked many of our reinforcements."

"Then we take Tarn now, while they're still gathering their army."

"Now, while we're recovering?" Octus objected.

"It's either that or wait until they are fully prepared," Trannis said. "If we can co-ordinate with the mechs who have been cut off, we can attack from both sides." He nodded to Starscream. "Your aerial troops can bring them more weapons."

"The slaves at the factories in Tarn are already in revolt," Flamewar added. "Mechs and supplies in one stroke."

"How many Autobots are in Tarn?" asked Starscream.

"Reports indicate close to a thousand, with several hundred expected to arrive each orn, my lord."

"Which of ours are on the other side?"

"Groups from Iacon, Simfur, and Polyhex."

Starscream smirked. "Perfect. Retaking Tarn should not be much of a problem."

"Not a problem?" Seizer exclaimed. "Our damaged force and some bands of escaped slaves against the Autobots?"

"Some of our best warriors will join us," Starscream said.

"Interruption: Regarding leadership of Autobots in question."

"Report later, Soundwave, I'll deal with that myself."

"Affirmative."

I lapped it up attentively, gaining clues from what went unsaid as well. By the time we were finished, I knew that Legonis, Octus, and Seizer could be a threat unless kept on a short leash; Skystalker would not try anything unless he was certain of his chances. Flamewar was a shrewd tactician, not just where battle was concerned: she maneuvered skillfully through the subtle power struggles that pervaded the conversation. Thunderwing was quiet and unassuming, but made me uneasy. My favorite was Trannis; programmed as a commander, he seemed uninterested in the petty politics surrounding most of the others. I hoped that one day I might be like him, earning my place through success on the battlefield.

It was clear that Soundwave and Shockwave held true power. Even Starscream treaded carefully around them. He saw them as a potential threat, but recognized their value.

After the meeting adjourned, Starscream and Thundercracker remained in the command center. I left, planning to go to the Hall of Memory and watch Megatron during his vorns as a gladiator. It would no doubt be an asset in battle, whether I was fighting against the Autobots or sparring with my comrades.

I noticed an energy signature following me and turned to see Flamewar close at hand.

"Was there something you needed…" Ordinarily I'd have called such a high-ranking officer "sir," but that didn't seem appropriate. "…General?" I finished.

She smiled, slinking closer. "Perhaps." She looked at me as though trying to get into my circuitry with her optics. Her behavior reminded me strongly of Andromeda, the unpleasant femme who worked alongside Apis in Steelcrusher's shop. I was no longer so naïve that I didn't know exactly what she wanted. "You look familiar. Have we met somewhere before?"

I would have remembered. "No, General."

"You bear a striking resemblance to someone I used to know."

"Who?"

"Hmm." I knew she was pretending to ponder because Starscream acted this way all the time. "I can't quite put my finger on it."

Flamewar moved even closer and I shied away. For all Ramrod had taught me about the Decepticon way, he'd never mentioned what to do when an officer flirted with me. "So," she purred. "Are you doing anything later?"

"What? I, ah…"

A red-plated arm slung around my shoulders, dragging me closer to Ramrod.

"Yeah, he is," the groundbound mech answered for me, staring back at Flamewar as though daring her to argue. "Why?"

"No reason," she answered. Annoyance flitted across her face, but was gone in a moment. She smiled at me again. "Well, then, Nova, I'm sure I'll be seeing you soon."

I made a vague sound and she brushed past, vanishing around the next corner.

"How do you do it?" I asked, prying Ramrod's arm from my shoulders.

"Do what?"

"Every time I'm in trouble, you show up."

"I told you, I'm your knight in shining armor."

"What does that even mean?"

"It's a human phrase," he answered with a lopsided grin. "It means I'll always be around when you need me."

Heat rose in my faceplates. "You realize who that was, don't you?"

"General Flamewar," he said. "General or not, the only one who gets to flirt with you is me, understand?"

"Right," I laughed, trying to slip past. With ease born from vorns of fighting, he slammed me into the wall, positioning his hands firmly on my wings to effectively pin me there.

"You think I'm joking?" I stared at him, all-too-conscious of the tingles that each tiny movement of his fingers sent through my sensory network.

"Ramrod…"

"I wasn't finished."

He shifted closer and I tried to draw back. "This isn't funny."

"I told you, I'm not joking," he said.

"Ramrod—"

"Don't you ever shut up?" Ramrod snarled, right before he renewed his weight on my wings and leaned in to press his mouthplates against mine.

For a klik I felt like I was going to short out again. My energy field went berserk, flaring and spiking. Only after he pulled away did I demand an explanation.

"What was that?"

"It's called a kiss."

"I know _that_, slagger. Why?"

"Because I felt like it." Ramrod's grin made my fuel pump stutter. "I know you liked it, or was your energy field going nuts for some other reason just now?" His fingers traced glyphs on my wings and I twitched.

"What do you want from me?" Ramrod was my friend, but I had learned to always be suspicious. If he thought I owed him something for getting me out of the situation with Flamewar, I'd hand him his skidplate if I could.

I had a small orange cyclefemme waiting for me in a dusty Neutral town.

Ramrod looked away, easing off so I could get away if I wanted. "I just thought… there's a war on. Either of us could be terminated anytime. I'm not asking much. Lifetime committment isn't Decepticon style. It doesn't have to change anything. We'd just be a little closer."

I had to be careful about getting into any sort of relationship with a Decepticon. We weren't exactly known for loyalty. Besides, we were in a war. Why become close to anyone when we could be separated in an orn? But that was a risk I'd already taken in becoming friends with Ramrod.

He grinned, bumping our helms together. "And I'd hate for you to die a virgin."

I laughed. I liked Ramrod—I could trust him. And I was curious. "Yeah, fine," I said, trying to sound offhand, like him. "If you're that desperate."

"Great!" he answered, sounding pitifully relieved. Under his big flirtatious act, he'd just been hoping I wouldn't reject him. Then he regained his cool demeanor, moving to trail a hand suggestively across my canopy.

"So. You doing anything later?"

* * *

We ended up sprawled on his recharge berth (I didn't want to risk any of the trine walking in on us). Ramrod's engine purred as he ran a finger down the seam from my optic to my jaw.

"Tired you out," he teased. "And for a Seeker, that's saying something. I mean, I knew I was good, but…" I smacked him. "So, what do you think? Worth repeating?"

I grinned. "Worth it." Oh, _definitely_. My entire sensory network _still_ tingled.

I'd feared that my processor would wander to Apis, but, surprisingly, it hadn't. And Ramrod had been so careful to make sure that I liked it. My faceplates heated and I looked up at the ceiling.

"That's good. I wouldn't mind an encore either."

* * *

The Decepticon army moved out to Tarn the orn after. Hurricane and I were among the fliers who would assist our fellows on the other side of the Autobot force. Unlike the battle for Kaon, the Autobots were organized and more numerous, and though our initial strike took them by surprise, they were ready for us by the time we arrived on the other end.

_/I will take you out of the battle again_ _if you do anything rash this time,/ _I warned my wingmate.

_/I believe you. We'll attack with Crosswind's trine. Be on the lookout for Autobot cannons./_

These Autobots were far better-prepared for an aerial assault than those in Kaon. I picked up some tricks on the fly, some from potentially painful experiences, others from the rest of the fliers. One of the most useful moves I learned accidentally, when I pulled up sharply to avoid a barrage of heavy fire… and realized too late that I had overcompensated, flipping right over in the air.

When I righted myself, I found the other four Seekers staring at me.

"How did you do that?" Crosswind demanded.

"I'll show you some other time," I gasped.

But even all the skill in the world isn't enough, at times. I followed Hurricane, who followed Crosswind, and we ended up under heavy fire.

_/Pull out and regroup,/_ came Crosswind's call, and I moved to obey.

The shot struck me with the force of a charging truck, punching through my left wing and knocking me out of formation. Hurricane transformed and dove to catch me, but a second shot sent him reeling back and I plummeted towards the unforgiving ground, struggling to even out or regain altitude.

I transformed just before hitting the ground. I heard something crack as I struck metal, rolling and bouncing with my momentum until I finally settled, propped partially off the ground by one horribly bent wing.

The pain hit a moment later and I screamed, arching and twisting to get my weight off of the damaged wing. Agony seared through my leg and I fell back into my previous position. I couldn't escape the anguish, couldn't sit up, couldn't even turn over.

A heavy foot came down on my torso, shattering my canopy and pressing me to the ground. The metal of my wing screeched as it bent further out of shape. I moaned and focused on the Autobot standing half on me. I couldn't make out his features but for his glowing blue optics; this was mainly because of the glare of his wicked-looking energon lance, positioned just above my chest. He had a chuckle at my helplessness, wedging his lance into the seam of my chestplates and levering sideways, prying them apart. I made a strangled sound, trying to reach up as the glow of my Spark appeared, but the tip of his lance pressed against my transparent Spark chamber and my arm clanged back to the ground.

"Any last words?" he asked triumphantly leaned down. I could only stare, terror making my Spark pulse madly. The Autobot's grin widened. "Two more wings for my wall tonight!"

He lifted the lance, readying for the final blow—an energon lance would go right through my Spark chamber with the strength he would put into it—and I couldn't even shutter my optics.

It was my general understanding that my life should have flashed before my optics at this point. What actually _did_ flash before me was large and purple and successfully knocked the Autobot off of me. There was a gurgling scream. I tried to look up, but that sent agony through my entire system. I gritted my denta, but that didn't hold in the pained noise. A single red optic appeared above me and clumsy hands moved beneath me, thick pincers picking me up. A burst of garbled static gave me the last clue.

"Lug…nut?" I croaked. He made another indistinct sound, then leapt out of immediate danger. I didn't need him to tell me to shut down; my system had already plunged me into stasis lock.

* * *

I was pleasantly surprised not to see the medbay when I onlined. I didn't like the idea of undergoing repairs in that mess. Instead, I was on my own berth. Looking around for an explanation, I found Starscream beside me.

"Don't even think about sitting up," he said. "Give it another orn or so. I repaired you. I wouldn't let those morons in the repair bay get ahold of you."

"The battle…? What happened?"

"We've retaken Tarn; the ground troops are handling the last Autobot resistance. Lugnut brought you back here yesterday." He pulled a face. "It took some convincing to get him out of here—he was fretting over you and making a general nuisance of himself."

"He seems quite taken with me."

"You have no idea." He stood. "You'll be back on your landing struts tomorrow. The Autobots will try to push us back."

* * *

Starscream's repairs had me active when he'd promised. He invited me back to the command center to attend another meeting; clearly he had decided that I showed enough promise to be present, as long as I remained a silent observer. I'd thought everyone was present when a huge shape pressed in through the door and approached with heavy footsteps. The new mech was easily as large as Steelcrusher, perhaps even larger.

"Lord Starscream," it said in a heavily accented voice through an unmoving mask of a face. The voice startled me. This monster was a _femme_? "It vas my understanding that a seat vould be held for me upon my return."

"So it has," Starscream answered. He waved towards Legonis, Octus, and Seizer. "If you would eject the present occupants, we can get started."

The three smaller mechs sputtered in outrage.

"We belong here!" Seizer protested.

"Is that so? I can't think of one useful contribution that the three of you have made to the cause…" Starscream paused, a claw tapping on the table. "…unless you consider endless complaints and cowardice as useful."

"Gentlemechs, if you vould?" the femme said, a tone of definite menace underscoring her words. The three mechs scrambled up and made their retreat. Legonis paused at the door.

"You'll regret this, Starscream! Just wait and see, you'll—"

Lasers fired and he crumpled, the remnants of his face twisted and smoking.

"That's _Lord_ Starscream," my creator hissed, lowering his arm.

While the other two dragged Legonis out, things proceeded as if nothing had happened.

"General Stryka, welcome back. Soundwave, report."

* * *

As Starscream predicted, the Autobots tried pushing us back, but not before we'd had time to shore up our defenses. We could now afford to defend the perimeter, with more mechs trickling in from around the planet each orn. No matter how the Autobots tried to hold onto their slaves, more and more Decepticons undertook the journey south to join us.

Starscream planned to take Polyhex, then Simfur. Iacon was too ambitious a target; as the center of the Autobot world and the seat of the Senate, it would be heavily guarded. In Polyhex, we encountered real trouble for the first time: an Autobot force that would take some time to defeat.

I spent my leave in Kaon, sparring with Ramrod or following Starscream to the command center. The rest of the time I fought in Polyhex. It wasn't all action and excitement. We hunkered down in our shelters for orns at a time, waiting for orders. No wonder our wars could drag on for thousands of vorns. We did not share organics' need to act quickly and decisively. Cybertronian warfare was largely planning and feinting, with brief bouts of fierce conflict.

I spent my time with Crosswind and the leader of the other trine in our unit, discussing aerial strategy. This should have been Hurricane's role, but he preferred to stay in the shelter we shared, staring sightlessly off into space.

He was mourning for his lost wingmates. I couldn't imagine how he must feel… how painful it must have been for him. Even so, I couldn't understand why he didn't try to live again, to move on. He had a new wingmate, and there was a war to be fought, yet he expressed no interest at all. So I took on his role in our unit, learning the maneuvers to pass on to Hurricane later.

We picked up an impromptu third: Lugnut shadowed me during each battle. We endured his presence, since he didn't interfere with our maneuvers, and he was useful besides—a group of Autobots that would have taken us breems to wipe out could be destroyed in kliks by Lugnut's powerful missiles.

"He's so protective of you," Hurricane said.

"I noticed," I said dryly, glancing over my shoulder to see Lugnut following several astrometers behind us.

Hurricane laughed (an unusual occurrence, for him). "It must be because you look so much like Megatron. Lugnut was obsessed with him."

I stopped. "What?"

He blinked. "You never noticed how everyone stares at you?"

"Of course I noticed. Megatron?" I should have put it together. How many megacycles had I spent in the Archives watching him?

"The color scheme, the face… Didn't anyone ever tell you?"

"No," I said quietly, thinking of Starscream. "No, they didn't."

* * *

In the skies over Polyhex, five vorns into the siege, Hurricane first commed me with a soon-familiar order: _/Nova, take point./_

It was easier to reign in Hurricane's suicidal tendencies when he followed my lead, and I no longer felt awkward with Crosswind and the other trineleader. When Hurricane and I returned to Kaon for a few orns' leave, I asked Starscream if this was an official promotion.

"Hurricane was never a trineleader," Starscream said. "Some mechs have it, some don't. We'll see how you do, Trineleader."

But I wasn't finished with Starscream. There was something we needed to discuss. "I look like Megatron."

Starscream froze. "There is a slight resemblance," he said slowly. "But Megatron wasn't a Seeker."

"Hurricane told me. That's why Lugnut follows me everywhere. That's the reason everyone stares at me."

"Megatron is gone." The other Seeker's voice was hard. "What does it matter that you happen to share a few characteristics with a long-dead mech? You were Sparked that way. Who cares?"

"Everyone else seems to. Are they expecting something of me?"

Starscream shook his head. "They'll get used to you."

It was unsettling, to be sure, when everyone stared at me, but as Starscream said, it didn't mean anything. I was nothing like Megatron. He had been violent and cruel, killing for pleasure. He and I had nothing in common besides our color scheme. I was _nothing_ like him.

* * *

Among my least favorite assignments was what we mockingly called "clean-up." After a battle we would comb a sector for survivors, Decepticon or Autobot. The savage actions of my comrades when they discovered a straggling Autobot sickened me. I could take no satisfaction in terminating a mech who was no longer a threat. I preferred to capture the defeated Autobots rather than destroy them.

After the Decepticons took Polyhex's sixth sector in the ninth vorn, I made my way through a half-demolished tower floor by floor, finding only empty rooms and deactivated shells. I found an energon store and commed to inform General Trannis, under whose command my trine had been placed.

Just as I turned to leave the storeroom and continue my search, I heard something. I paused, scanning the room again. Mass quantities of energon had a way of interfering with a mech's energy signature; if I picked a place to hide, it would be among energon cubes.

Keeping my audios tuned to their finest, I moved into the storage room, arm rifles powered. The lights came on as I entered, aiding my search. I heard a shift of metal on metal, enough for my sensitive audios.

I rounded the last corner, arm-guns aimed and ready… but I found not a battle-ready enemy, only a small femme, the Autobot insignia blatant on her chest. She held a tiny sparkling that couldn't have been older than five vorns or so. Upon seeing me, she clutched it closer, trying to shield it, but said nothing. Although her optics brimmed with fear, she wouldn't beg.

I hesitated, lowering my arms. I couldn't do this.

"I won't hurt you," I said. "There's a team coming for this energon. You won't be safe here. Get out now, while you still can."

I turned to check the door.

"Why are you doing this?" the Autobot asked suspiciously. "You're a Decepticon."

"Yes," I answered. "I know."

I left her to ponder that while I continued my sweep.

* * *

My performance on the battlefield improved during the long battle for Polyhex. At first some of the skirmishes left me with injuries, but as time passed, I collected fewer wounds.

Twelve vorns in Polyhex. I could fly through the city with my optics shuttered, if I wanted to get tagged by Autobot fire.

Crosswind's unit was flying over the main city-hub of Polyhex, half of which was still in Autobot hands. Many of the roads had been blown out, making travel difficult for the ground-bound Autobots while leaving fliers free to travel wherever ordered, as long as we weren't caught in heavy ground-to-air fire. We flew between the buildings, making me increasingly nervous.

_/Crosswind,/ _I commed, _/that intersection ahead would be a convenient place for an ambush./_

_/You think so?/_

_/I've got a bad feeling about this./_

_/All right, I suppose we can digress from our flight path for a cycle. Let's land on the rooftops and check it out. Nova, take your trine to the northeast corner. Galerider, take the northwest./_

Hurricane and I landed on top of the skyscraper, then inched forward for a view of the lower balconies. I magnified my optics; sure enough, there were several hunched forms below, on the balconies of this building and the one across from it, in perfect positions to shoot into the intersection, a complex weaving of several looping roads. Any mechs who passed through, even at the altitude we had maintained, would have been caught in deadly crossfire.

Back at the temporary shelters, Crosswind approached me. "I like your instincts, Nova. Good work out there."

"Thank you."

"You've been doing well. I'd hate to lose you, and I admit it would be unorthodox since you haven't got a full trine, but I think I might recommend you for wingleader." He grinned at my astonished stare. "You've got a good handle on aerial strategy and I don't think you'll have any problem getting people to follow your orders."

Starscream continued to bring me along to the command center, and though I had not yet been asked for my opinion, I continued to absorb the goings-on.

Polyhex was not easy to take. Every time we made progress, the Autobots pushed back. It took many vorns to break through the Autobot defenses. By the time we secured the city, I was a hardened warrior and had managed to keep the trines under my command more or less intact. None of my Seekers scoffed about my age anymore. Without two centivorns behind me, I had passed my first test in a command position.

With Polyhex came captured energon mines, easing the strain on our supplies.

"According to Soundwave's information," Starscream told me, "Simfur is weak. It won't be like Polyhex, especially after seeing what we've done there."

The command staff met a few decacycles into Simfur to plan. Halfway through Skystalker's report, Starscream interrupted.

"Skystalker… get out."

"M-my lord?" the shuttle stammered.

"I'm tired of your incompetence. Do you want to end up like Legonis? Be grateful that I, unlike Megatron, am willing to be merciful."

Skystalker left as quickly as his landing struts would carry him. There was a moment's silence.

Flamewar broke it. "Thank you." Starscream glanced at her. "Well, if you hadn't done it, one of us would have."

The meeting drew on as they discussed strategy and troop positioning and energon supply. When I had first arrived in Kaon, all of these subjects had been mysteries to me, but now, I understood exactly what they were talking about. How clear it all seemed, and how much I longed to speak, to give my input, now that I had enough experience to say something of value.

Finally the talk reached a standstill. This would ordinarily be the time when Starscream would make his decision, after everyone had presented an idea, but he remained silent, optics roving over the holomap on the table's surface, idly changing colors here and there. By now I could read the map properly, and I could tell that this wasn't mere boredom; he was mulling things over, different colors forming different situations.

The question came out of nowhere. "What do you think, Nova?"

I gaped at him for an undignified moment. He'd never asked for my opinion in the command center before. "Sir?"

Starscream turned slightly to smirk at me. "I trust you've been paying attention?"

I concealed my surprise and pride and looked down at the holomap. "The second sector refineries aren't well-defended against an aerial attack. The third sector might yield more energon but it isn't worth the resources we'd waste attacking it."

Starscream gave a tiny nod of approval. "Good," he said. The meeting continued as usual. While I listened, I thought about Skystalker's empty seat. I thought I knew why Starscream had chosen today to ask for my input.

* * *

Over the next few orbits, I continued to attend the officers' meetings. At least once at each, Starscream asked my opinion, beginning with smaller matters and working his way up. I knew what he was doing. He was getting the others used to me, helping me show them that I knew what I was doing. Grooming me for a larger role while avoiding accusations of a quick promotion.

I was with Starscream in the temporary forward command center when the Emirate of Simfur appeared on the holoscreen.

"Commander Starscream," he said. "I am Rimspin, Emirate of—"

"I know who you are," Starscream interrupted. "All I want from you is unconditional surrender, or this city and all of its Autobot inhabitants will be destroyed."

"We… we will surrender," Rimspin croaked, obviously terrified. "But Simfur is a place of learning and study. There is nothing of value to you here. All we ask is to continue our work. We'll promise neutrality, anything you want, but we won't become slaves."

"Didn't I say unconditional?" Starscream hissed. The Autobot's blue optics paled.

"But our schools, our nurseries! What of our sparklings?"

"What of _ours_?" Starscream snapped. "The protoforms destroyed after Axis, when the Autobots made their _glorious _return to Cybertron?" He laughed bitterly. "You should have surrendered when you had the chance."

"But we _do_ surrend—"

Starscream cut the communication link and the holoscreen went blank. "Soundwave, have all Decepticons fall back. We're going to obliterate this entire miserable city. It's worth nothing to us."

"Starscream!" I burst out, unable to keep my silence any longer. "He said they surrender. There's no need for this!"

"You wouldn't understand what the Autobots have done to deserve this," my creator hissed.

"This won't help us gain our freedom!"

"It will teach the Autobots a lesson," he snarled. I stared at him in shock, unable to believe that he would do something like this. It was so like the stereotypical vision of the Decepticons… so like Megatron. "Don't question my orders."

I stood and watched as Simfur vanished in a ball of flame.

* * *

"Iacon is still too well-defended to take."

The command team had met to discuss our next move. Thunderwing and Stryka had expressed concern over the bombing of Simfur, but Starscream had ignored them.

"In that case," Starscream continued, "we should turn our sights to Altihex. It's relatively undefended, since the Autobots anticipated our northward press to culminate in Iacon." He smiled. "And if they do put up a fight, one more like Simfur would be an effective demonstration."

The full meaning of his words hit me and after a moment of staring at him, checking that my audios hadn't malfunctioned, I asserted myself. "We can't do that. There's no garrison in Altihex, only civilians."

"They are _Autobots_," Starscream said, blinking his optics in surprise. That irked me.

"We can't attack civilians," I repeated. The others were so used to me that they didn't look angry that I'd spoken out of turn. "It will give the Autobots strength. They'll have the moral advantage as they did in the old war. They'll come for us with greater determination."

"Let them," he answered. "Let them come. We will meet them and we will crush them."

"Or this war will drag on for astrocycles," I said. "Repeating the past won't work."

"It will. This time—"

"This time _what_, Starscream? How is this time different? Because you're in charge? Because all you need to control the Decepticons is a figurehead?" I had figured him out. The reason he brought me to the command meetings, because he knew I would usually speak in favor of his plans, and the others would listen to me because of my face. I laughed humorlessly, irony heavy on my glossa as I echoed Prime. "I won't let you make me into another Megatron."

He smirked. "You were Sparked that way."

Something snapped within me. Uncaring of the consequences, I seized Starscream's throat, pulling him halfway across the table. "_I am not Megatron,_" I snarled. "You may think I am, you may have intended me to be, but I'm _not_. I understand that you are the commander. I understand that you are more experienced than I am. But _you_ have to understand that what worked once, what worked for Megatron, won't work now. You can't pretend that the last two centivorns didn't happen."

I released him, gaining some satisfaction from the clang he made as he fell back. "When you're ready to let go of the past, let me know."

* * *

I'd made it as far as the arena when Skywarp popped into existence at my elbow.

"You really fragged off Screamer back there," he said, a trace of a laugh evident in his voice, as usual. "If looks could kill, Nova, you'd be _so_ slagged."

"I don't know how to make him understand," I muttered, slumping against the wall with crossed arms. I didn't bother to ask how Skywarp knew; Thundercracker had probably informed him. Passing 'cons nodded at me respectfully.

"To make it around here, most mechs do as they're told."

"What we're told is _wrong_."

Skywarp shrugged. "You can make yourself happy with what Starscream says."

There was a brief silence. I glowered into space, disliking this option. I wanted the Decepticons to be free, but I didn't want war for another eternity.

Skywarp broke the silence. The other Seeker wasn't looking at me, apparently absorbed in a spar halfway across the room. "Or you can make Starscream happy with what _you_ say."

I glanced at him, but he kept his gaze averted. If he'd just suggested what I'd thought he'd suggested…

There was Starscream, sweeping in with a stormy face, Thundercracker right behind him. Wise mechs gave him a wide berth.

I had to make a decision. I couldn't lose Starscream's support. He knew things, had information, fought like one possessed, was my creator. But if it came down to losing Starscream against losing the war…

I decided.

My comrades moved aside for me as readily as they did for the other irate Seeker. I approached my creator, Skywarp following curiously in my wake.

"Starscream," I said, loud enough that the mechs around us looked up from their sparring. Good. The more witnesses, the better. I matched Starscream's frosty glare with a cool stare of my own, injecting more confidence into my voice than I actually felt.

"I challenge you to a duel for leadership of the Decepticons."


	17. Duel

**A/N: **After this, be sure to check my story list for Rise Extras, which collects what happens in Rise when Nova isn't around. Some of these Extras provide crucial insight to what's going on with some of the other characters. Enjoy Extras 1-8 at your leisure.

* * *

**17. Duel**

* * *

"You've got bearings, I'll give you that," Skywarp told me with an anticipatory grin. A medic (as near as we had) was giving me a quick maintenance check, having already finished with Starscream. I could see my creator across the arena, speaking in databursts with Thundercracker, his chosen second. To my surprise, Skywarp had volunteered to be mine, ignoring the glare from his trineleader.

"I don't want you to break with your trine," I'd told him, to which he had replied, "But you _are _trine."

I allowed the medic to check my plating and weapons systems, ensuring that I was in peak condition. Meanwhile, I tried to calm my raging Spark, relaxing with my optics dimmed. I needed to think, to plan. I _had_ to win, but how? I'd fought and defeated other Decepticons, but Starscream was in a league of his own. I would have to be quick on my landing struts and my processor.

_/Don't let him take it to the air,/ _Skywarp advised over my comm, _/or he'll hand you your aft on a platter. On the ground, you might actually stand a chance./_

I shot him a withering look. _/Thanks, Skywarp./_

The medic pronounced me fit to battle. I'd heard of mechs losing all fear once they stepped into the ring, but now my nervousness only increased. Perhaps it was because Starscream was opposite me, or perhaps it was because this duel would determine the future of the Decepticons.

Starscream's face was unreadable as he moved into place opposite me. Rarely had I been as intimidated by him as I was now. Traditionally, this was a duel to termination, but Skywarp had told me of one or two instances when Megatron had allowed a challenger to live. Starscream's Spark-oath would keep him from killing me, but I knew all too well how much a mech could live through.

Shockwave and Soundwave stood on either side of the ring, our official referees.

Shockwave spoke the standard rules. "You may use any weapon, held or inbuilt, at your disposal. If you take off, you may only land within the ring. If you step or are forced out of the ring, you forfeit. The second may intervene if the combatant is temporarily disabled; the second may fight for one breem before the combatant must re-enter the ring or forfeit. You will receive no medical assistance during the duel. You will battle to termination or forfeit. Do you understand?"

Starscream and I nodded. Shockwave motioned to Soundwave, politely offering him the honors. Soundwave's visor flashed.

"Begin," he intoned.

Before Soundwave's voice stopped echoing, Starscream moved, his thrusters giving him an extra boost. I snapped my head back and his kick lost some of its intended force, though it still made me stumble back two steps, heat from his turbine searing my throat. Only my reflexes saved me from taking a null-ray blast to the face; I heard the cannon powering and ducked, feeling it go overhead.

I couldn't afford to take a hit from that. It would take a full breem to recover, and I didn't intend to use Skywarp's assistance. I had to keep my audios tuned to their finest to hear the tell-tale noise of the cannons powering up.

Now that I was ready for him, Starscream waited, mouthplates curving up. I fired on him, but he dodged into the air. He dove with a flurry of laser fire. I darted aside and up, forced into the air. Starscream was on me in an instant, claws tearing at my armor, delving in towards my wiring. I tried to disengage, but the moment I had gotten clear, he struck me again. Warnings flashed in my vision. I cut my thrusters and fell. Startled, he released me in order to stay airborne and I crashed to the floor in a heap. I heard both groans and cheers from the spectators. Rather than finish me off from where he was, Starscream landed, wings flicking back proudly. I could take him by surprise here.

"Is that _all_?" he asked mockingly, arrogantly dropping his guard. I waited until he was almost on top of me, then flung up an arm and fired. He yelped and skipped backwards, scorched and smoking in several places where I had struck him. More cheers, more groans—so many of them were hoping that I would win. But I couldn't think about that right now.

Before Starscream recovered, I took the initiative, moving in to attack at close quarters where I could use my physical strength to my advantage. Besides, I was out of reach of his null rays.

I'd made a wise decision. Starscream was struggling, barely, but it was enough. Here I outmatched him… here I could _defeat_ him!

But Starscream was _fast_. Even in his weak area, he wielded his claws with painful efficiency. He looked as though he expected everything I threw at him. He'd taught me most of it, of course. But I hadn't relied purely on Starscream. I'd made a name for myself sparring with my fellow Decepticons. I'd spent megacycles in the Archives learning from the old arena fights. And I'd learned some tricks from the best melee fighter I'd had the good fortune to meet.

I feigned a stumble, pretending to be off-balance, and Starscream took the bait, closing in as I'd expected. The surprise on his face was almost comical as I, perfectly stable and ready, sent him sprawling. I heard a familiar whoop over the tumult.

Starscream landed awkwardly. I fired on him, deliberately aiming to disable rather than deactivate, but his reflexes kicked in and he returned fire, forcing me to dart aside. He pulled himself up, favoring his right leg, but I knew better than to underestimate him now. He wouldn't make it easy for me to end the duel decisively without killing him.

Now he had me on the run; it was all I could do to avoid his lasers. He wasn't going to do this halfway. He couldn't terminate me, but short of that he would do whatever he had to, just as I would.

Starscream drove me to the edge of the ring. I fired up my thrusters, but he followed, catching me a few astrometers up. He dug his claws into my wings, calculating and brutal, tearing at energon lines and support struts, ripping through thin plating. I screamed and struggled, trying to burn him with my thrusters. He slammed me into the ground hard and I coughed up energon. The crowd had fallen eerily silent. Unlike other duels, where they would be yelling at the apparent victor by this point, urging him to either terminate the loser or let him forfeit, they all waited to see what Starscream would do.

He wouldn't kill me. He _couldn't_ kill me—to do so would extinguish his own Spark. But losing now would mean losing too much ground, losing the support of those Decepticons who seemed so confident in me, losing everything _but_ my life. And Starscream would make it _hurt_.

I couldn't afford to lose.

My processor whirled at lightspeed and beyond. Claws? Not good enough. Cannons? Torn off in Starscream's aerial assault. Thrusters? Trapped under Starscream's legs. What other weapon did I have at my disposal?

In a flash, I remembered the Archivist's voice. _"When those 'outdated' weapons save your life…"_

And I remembered Ramrod pinning me to the ground and guiding my hands, saying, _"It's not much, but if you ever need to distract someone for a klik or two…"_

"Trust me," Starscream hissed softly, his expression betraying none of his feelings, "this will hurt me more than it will hurt you."

"I'll bet it will," I answered, just before I shoved my claws into the circuitry where his waist met his hips and tugged hard on whatever wires I could grip.

It worked as it had when Ramrod first showed me, making the older Seeker jerk back involuntarily at the wrench on his motor systems. It was just enough to let me \ reach back with both hands for the swords that my wings had just released. I had a moment to relish the shock on Starscream's face; he had just enough time to begin a startled "What—?" before I struck, sending him scrambling backwards.

The tide had turned. I had Starscream where I wanted him, out of range of claws or cannons. The twin swords seemed made for me; it mystified me how natural I felt at this, how smooth. I'd never fought with them before, yet I knew exactly what I was doing, moving on instinct. Starscream was struggling, faltering, spooked.

I knocked him off balance, enjoyed the furious flare of his optics, and sent him to the floor. He was battered, sparking at the joints and dripping energon. One of his null-rays and part of one wing had been sheared off, his left arm was useless from the elbow down, and it looked as though he could no longer stand on his injured leg. There was a vicious gash on his midsection where he had twisted in an attempt to avoid a slash on his other wing.

He glared up at me and wiped a trickle of energon from his mouthplates. His vents heaved and he attempted to struggle up using only one arm and one leg, but froze when I slid the end of one blade under his chin, tilting his head back. Aside from our intakes cycling rapidly, there was no sound.

"Do you submit?" I asked. My voice was soft, but in the overwhelming silence it rang like a shot.

"Never," Starscream rasped, optics flashing. I pressed harder and a bead of energon welled up from where the sword's point met his throat. I saw Thundercracker twitch, but the blue Seeker stayed where he was.

"Do you _submit?_" I repeated. I met his optics squarely, wordlessly conveying the threat: if it came down to it, I would order him to surrender. I would not kill my own creator.

Yet if I had to order him, the guilt would gnaw at me forever. I would never be certain whether he truly believed I was ready.

After a few tense kliks, Starscream's face pulled into a brief, pained grimace. "Yes," he said. He began to smile. "I submit."

The Decepticons exploded. It seemed that everyone wanted to touch me, to speak to me, but after a cycle of chaos, Soundwave and Shockwave managed to herd them back.

"Now you've done it," Starscream muttered as I helped him up, giving him to the support of his wingmates. "They'll be useless all orn… my Lord Commander."

"You've really got them riled up," Skywarp added. "Don't you wish to address the troops, my _Lord_?" It was more comfortable when Skywarp said it. I could be sure that he was joking. Almost.

I looked up into a sea of red optics. The weight of my new responsibility settled onto me under their stares and I suddenly thought of Optimus. For a moment I was homesick—I missed Optimus with all my Spark. I wanted to see him, speak to him, tell him everything that had happened. But first I had others to speak to.

Lost for words, I glanced at Starscream.

_/When in doubt, fall back on that ancient strategy that even Prime uses: keep it short, keep it vague, and let them interpret it./_

I nodded, dredging up the words as I looked back at the Decepticons… at _my _Decepticons.

"Thank you," I said. "Thank you for supporting me… I hope I've earned it." I hesitated. How could I state my cause in a way they would appreciate? "I will end this war," I continued at last. "We will have our freedom."

This was enough for my mechs, who flooded towards me in a raucous but happy mob, some congratulating, others just reaching out to touch me, expressions of awe and wonder on their faces. They acted almost reverential, as though I were an icon so sacred that I would bless them with my very touch.

I couldn't help but remember Starscream's talk of a "sign," back in Iacon, how he'd said that the Decepticons needed someone like Megatron, someone who could rally them as he had, and now I understood what he had meant.

They had been waiting for _me_.

Lugnut loomed behind me, but refrained from embracing me. Although his jaw had been repaired, his vocalizer, one of the most delicate components in the Cybertronian body, would take some time to heal. He kept the crowd away from one side of me. The constant press was beginning to make me feel claustrophobic.

Ramrod appeared at my side, a wide grin splitting his face, but all he had time to say was "You forgot to watch your left again!" before Starscream pulled me away.

_/Come with me,/ _he commed. After a moment of hesitation, he added, _/There's something I have to tell you./_

With Lugnut's help, we extricated ourselves from the crowd and I helped Starscream towards our quarters.

"Starscream?" He answered with a glance. "I don't want this to come between us. I understand what things were like between you and Megatron, and I don't want us to be like that."

"Does this mean I'm your second-in-command?"

"I couldn't ask for anyone else, Starscream. You're the best there is."

He smirked. "Of course I am. You're not nearly as insufferable as he was."

His smile faded, leaving a thoughtful frown. His energy field was pulled tight about him, his optics on the floor. There was too much tension in his frame. Whatever he had to say would be difficult. His strange behavior aroused my curiosity at once, but I waited until we were safe inside my quarters.

"We should…" Starscream trailed off, gesturing at the chairs. I sat, burning with anticipation. He remained seated for a few kliks before struggling to his landing struts again, hobbling back and forth, quick and agitated.

"You've noticed how they stare at you," he said finally.

"I've noticed." We had discussed this during the Polyhex campaign. I tried to predict where Starscream was headed with this.

"They… many of them think you're Megatron, that he's come back," Starscream managed at last. "That he's returned. It's rubbish, of course, but they're on the right track. You were meant to lead the Decepticons."

"What do you mean?" I asked, with a sense of foreboding.

"I can't find the words," he exploded, turning on me in his desperation. "How do I say in a moment what I've hidden for two hundred vorns?"

"Try," I whispered.

"I didn't want you to know. _Anybody_ to know." Starscream paced back and forth a few more times, optics burning wildly.

"Tell me," I said softly. It was an order, and he had to obey.

"Your co-creator… your code writer… it was Megatron." He cycled an intake, then said it again. "Megatron was your creator."

My world ground to a halt.

Megatron. The cruelest, most brutal Decepticon, the very thing I rebelled against, had contributed to my programming.

_I'm not like Megatron_, I'd insisted. But I _was _like him. I was Sparked like him. I was Sparked… _from_ him.

"No," I said flatly. "I… he can't be. Why didn't you tell me before?"

Starscream finally sat, expelling air from his vents. "When you've fought for millions of vorns to become leader, you don't want to give it up to anyone. I admit it: I didn't want you getting ideas. If I'd told you what you were Sparked for, you might have actually wanted it. In the end, you did this because you believed it was right, not because you believed it was _your_ right."

I dropped my head into my hands. "How? Why?"

Starscream was silent for a long moment. I glanced up to see once again the expression of shame that had haunted his face back in the cave the night he'd revealed that he was my carrier-creator.

"I hated him," he hissed, his voice layered with too many emotions to name. "I hated submitting to him. He wanted an heir, in case anything should happen to him. I don't know how he found out about Seekers and sparklings, but somehow he did. And he ordered me—me, the Air Commander, second-in-command of all Decepticons—to Sparkmerge with him like some common pleasurebot, to bear his sparkling, his 'heir,' when I should have been the one to inherit the Decepticons. And _then_ he bound me to you. _Forced_ me to swear loyalty, obedience—!"

He shut his mouth, slowly unclenching his hands, calming himself.

"Do you hate me?" I asked. "Because of what I am?"

"I did, once," Starscream answered. "When you were still inside me, in the vorn following Axis. You were a remnant of Megatron. You were a reminder of his dominance, the humiliation he put me through. But then…"

He watched me for several kliks. I waited patiently.

"And then you were Sparked. When I saw you…" He shook his head slowly. His optics were on mine. "I could never hate you, Nova. Never."

After a silence, Starscream said, "Well, then. You're in charge now. Your orders, Commander?"

I didn't much feel like giving orders. I needed to gather my wits, regain my balance. Everything had happened so quickly. I needed to find myself after losing my bearings.

And I had strategy to consider. Unlike Starscream, I was uninterested in conquest or destruction of the Autobots. All I wanted was freedom for all Cybertronians. I was not, however, so naïve as to assume that the Senate would simply agree to give us liberty and equality without a fight. In their optics, our revolution was nothing but a slave revolt.

"We'll strengthen our hold on the southern hemisphere first," I said. We could hold our own on the defensive. Sooner or later, hopefully, the Autobots would tire of fighting. Many already had, I knew from growing up in Iacon. "No more northern expansion. Just give them an orn or two to rest. I have something I need to do."

"Someone you need to see?" Starscream answered shrewdly. I wondered if he meant Optimus or…

Apis. I wanted to see her more than anything. But first I would contact Optimus. I still had his comm signal, and now I wondered why it had never occurred to me to speak to him before.

"Get yourself repaired," I told Starscream.

"You too," he answered. "I want you healthy before you fly off into parts unknown."

"Don't worry," I said, already planning. "I won't even leave Decepticon territory."

* * *

**A/N:** After you review (which I'm sure you all do, right?), check out my profile for Rise Extras, and then you can run along to Rise Revolution, the LiveJournal community for this story, because now that the secret's out you can read all the wonderful AUs to your hearts' content.


	18. Reunion

**A/N: **For those of you going "Evil rapist jerk!" at Megatron, consider this: Cybertronians have firewalls. There isn't a magical override code. It is impossible to "force" someone to have a before you take up arms about Megatron "raping" Starscream… those two have always been… complicated. Consider that.

Enjoy!

* * *

**18. Reunion**

* * *

My message to Optimus consisted of a time and a set of coordinates, but he would recognize my comm frequency. I arrived at my chosen location first—I didn't want to leave Optimus any doubt that I would come. Besides, it was safer for me to loiter in Decepticon territory than it would be for him.

I'd chosen an inconspicuous canyon for our meeting, one that could be accessed from both ground and air. It was at the edge of the Decepticon-held land, near the Tarn-Praxus border, and I'd made sure that this area would not be patrolled for the rest of the orn. I kept to the shade for protection from the notorious Tarnish heat as well as the cover it provided, pacing restlessly back and forth.

I waited a good megacycle until the appointed time. I'd given him enough space to come all the way from Iacon if he had to, though I suspected that he was nearer. It was just a breem after the selected time that I heard engines and turned eagerly in the direction of the sound.

Optimus Prime rolled in from the north, red-and-blue paintwork shimmering in the heat. He transformed, straightening to his full, considerable height; I'd almost forgotten how tall he was. He still towered over me and always would.

His next action was to retract his mask, revealing that I still had the privilege of speaking with him face-to-face. He was smiling. If he saw the Decepticon insignias on my wings, he showed no sign as he came forward, surprising me with a warm embrace.

"Nova," he said as he drew back to observe me at arm's length. I felt as though I could melt at the sound of his voice. "I'm so glad you're all right. I've missed you."

"I missed you too, Optimus." Mere words could never express how much.

"You've grown," he remarked, blue optics soft.

My vocalizer caught. _I have. Enough to terminate many of your Autobots. Oh, did I mention that I'm now the leader of your enemies? Or that I'm the creation of your archnemesis? _

I pulled away from him and retreated a few steps. How could I face him now?

"Did you know?"

His answer was a blank look. "Know what?"

"About my creators."

A troubled frown etched itself across Optimus's features. He held his silence for a few kliks, close to half a cycle. "I know about Starscream," he answered at last. "And only then after you were Sparked. I didn't know that he was carrying… none of us did. I'll never know what he went through trying to keep you a secret. I only found out when Ratchet contacted me after your transfer into a protoform.

"I wanted you to grow up free. That's why I adopted you as my ward. Starscream raised you for the first several vorns, hidden away in my estate to keep your origin a secret. But he never told us who your co-creator was. Ratchet and I assumed it was one of his wingmates and we didn't press him."

So Optimus didn't know. A nervous fear nagged at me: if he had, would he still have raised me as his own? If I told him now, would he hate me?

Even so, Prime deserved to know. After all that he'd done for me, all that he'd given me, I owed him this.

But it was so hard! To tell Prime would be to accept it. If I said those hated words aloud, I would be forced to acknowledge them.

After a brief, violent internal struggle, I forced my vocal processors to emit the horrible truth.

"It was Megatron," I told him. "Megatron was my creator."

Prime said nothing. I waited for the explosion, for horror or disgust to pass over his faceplates. Any moment, it would come. Surely he would hate me now.

"I admit, I had my suspicions," he said. To my surprise, he sounded sad. Not angry, not sickened… just sad and tired. "But I always thought that Starscream would never allow it." I stared at him. "Perhaps I misjudged their relationship, if they decided to have a sparkling together, though if I know Starscream, he would never admit to—"

"Are you _glitching,_ Prime?" I burst out. He looked at me in surprise.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't hold back on my account, by all means," I said bitterly. "You don't have to pretend it doesn't matter."

"Nova, what are you talking about?"

"I was Sparked from Megatron. I'm the son and heir of your greatest enemy. We're thinking of the same Megatron, right? The Slag Maker? The one who killed Sentinel Prime, maybe thousands of your Autobots and countless millions of alien creatures? The one responsible for practically destroying this entire planet? The one who tried to terminate you too many times to count? Is any of this registering?"

"Nova…"

"Please, Prime, if you hate me, don't lie to me. Don't smile and play pretend. Get it over with!"

In two strides, he was close enough to grip my arms. "Nova, stop." It was as though he'd disabled my vocalizer. I could never disobey Prime. "What are you saying?"

I looked down, but he lifted my chin with gentle fingers, forcing me to look him in the optics.

"I could never hate you, Nova," he said softly. "You're like my own creation. I held you as a sparkling, I watched you grow into the mech who stands before me now. You are not your creator, Nova, and I will never hate you."

"I'm a Decepticon," I managed. "I've killed Autobots…"

"I will never hate you," Optimus reiterated. "No matter what. I know why you wear those symbols." One finger gently brushed one of my seared-on insignias. "Not for revenge or hatred, not like your carrier-creator. For justice, freedom. We both want the same thing, Nova; we're only working towards it from different directions."

He smiled fondly, then, to my surprise, he chuckled.

"What?" I asked.

"Do you remember when Ironhide nearly blasted you through the wall at the party I held for your graduation from the Academy?"

I smiled. It was funnier now than it had been at the time; the irony was not lost on me. "I remember."

Prime backed off again, his optics taking in all of me. "You've been repaired recently," he noted, well-trained optics tracing the painted-over weld lines on my wings and torso.

"Ah... yes. I…" I hesitated, but he recognized my facial expression.

"No matter what," he reminded me.

"I challenged Starscream." Another brief hesitation. "I won."

I watched as the implications sank in, but before he could speak, I murmured, "I don't want to be your enemy, Optimus."

After a moment he laid a large hand on my shoulder. "You never will be, Nova. You will always be my dear friend, a good mech, and a leader worthy of my respect."

It was the highest praise he'd ever given me. I was almost certain that my Spark flared warmly enough to combust.

"It's good that you're doing well there," he continued. The smile faded. "Be careful. Decepticon politics, as I'm sure you know better than I, are brutal. You will be the target of many attacks. Choose your friends and allies wisely."

"I'll be careful, Prime. And…" I had to make sure he knew this, _really_ knew it. "What happened at Simfur… it won't happen again. I'll make sure of it. I promise." He nodded silently. I _had_ to ask him, I had to try to stop the fighting. "Optimus… can you free us?"

Optimus looked down. He sounded ashamed when he said, "That's never been my decision. I thought that reinstating the Senate would help us on the road to peace, but instead it brought slavery. They have their own generals now—I can't call a ceasefire. I'm sorry, Nova. I'll do everything I can to stop this war."

I checked my chronometer. There was time, but I wanted to take no chances. "The longer you're here puts you in more danger. You should go."

"I will," he answered, but he spent another long moment just watching me.

"You've grown so much," Prime told me finally. "And you've come so far. I can't tell you how proud I am of you, Nova."

For a klik I found it difficult to speak; then I found my voice. "You're more my creator than… _he_ ever will be. If I'm ever half the mech you are, Optimus, my life will be complete."

His smile was radiant. Then he let his battle mask slide back on and he nodded to me. "Until next we meet."

"I'll be seeing you, Prime," I answered. I watched him until his dust had vanished from sight.

* * *

My euphoria that Optimus still cared for me lifted me higher than my engines; my anticipation of seeing Apis again drove me faster than my thrusters. Even the dust I had to hack out of my intakes upon landing in Khalkon didn't dampen my spirits.

But my anxiety returned as I approached Steelcrusher's shop. Optimus had taken the news easily, but he'd known me all my life. What if Apis rejected me? I had to tell her. I'd never considered hiding something so important. She had the right to know everything about me before we continued this… this whatever-it-was we had.

The small orange mech was at the counter. I approached, looking discreetly around for a glimpse of Apis.

"Is Apis here?" I asked, feeling foolish. The little mech regarded me coolly.

"She's not working right now. She's at home."

"Oh." I hesitated. The orange mech drummed his fingers on the countertop. "Is there a staircase or something?" He arched an optic ridge, but said nothing. "Or not," I muttered.

"What are you hanging around her for?" the little mech asked suddenly. I hitched up my wings defensively.

"I just want to see her again, that's all."

"Yeah?" he growled suspiciously. "Well, 'Crusher'll grind you into scrap if you try anything funny."

_I'm sure he could,_ I thought, picturing the purple tank's huge hands. "I'm not going to 'try anything funny.' Can't you comm her or something?"

"No." The orange mech crossed his arms.

I could see there was no arguing with him, but there was another way around this. I left the shop, made sure the grumpy mech couldn't see me, and headed around the side of the building before lifting off, flying up to Apis's window. She sat cross-legged on the floor with parts scattered all around her—it looked like a disassembled pair of thrusters.

I tapped on the window and she jumped, looking over her shoulder. Her face split into a broad smile and her handlebars perked up as she came over and opened the window.

"Nova!"

"I hope you didn't offline anyone I know for those," I teased, pointing at her project. She giggled.

"Decepticon humor?"

"In Kaon, I'd be serious."

"Don't worry, I didn't. It's been vorns! What are you doing here?"

"Here in town or here at your window?"

"Either."

"I'm at your window because your little bodyguard downstairs wouldn't let me in the proper way. I'm in town because I wanted to see you."

"Oh, Shortstop. Don't take it personally, he's like that to everyone." She glanced down and snorted with laughter. "Do you, um… do you want to come inside?"

"Yes, please. If it's okay with…"

"Oh, don't let 'Stop worry you. You're perfectly fine, Nova. Come on in."

Once she stepped back, I climbed awkwardly inside, squeezing sideways to give my wings enough room. She cleared the grimy parts out of the way, but didn't sit.

"How've you been?" she asked. I could tell she had seen the signs of repairs all over my frame.

"All right, I guess." I hesitated. "I missed you."

"I missed you too."

"How've you… been?"

"Fine. I mean, same as ever."

There was an awkward silence. Apis fidgeted, her handlebars twitching this way and that. Then she reached out for my hand.

"You want to grab some energon? My treat?"

We left her room and she led me down the stairs into the shop's back courtyard. Steelcrusher was there, and my fuel pump stopped as he looked up at us. Then he guffawed. "'Ey there, Nova. Bin a while. Takin' Apis out agin?"

"I'm takin' 'im out this time, 'Crusher," Apis answered.

"Giss I don' hafta warn you 'bout gittin cosy," the tank laughed. "Wouldn' be much fun fer you ta short-circuit again, eh?"

Heat rose to my face and I mumbled something incoherent. _I didn't short out when _Ramrod_ kissed me, _I thought viciously, but checked myself. This was different.

"Leave 'im alone, 'Crusher. We'll be back later, 'kay?"

"'Ave fun, you two."

Steelcrusher's blessing secured, Apis tugged me into the shop and towards the door, but not before the orange mech spotted us. He banged his hands on the counter.

"Now hold on a klik! How—what—where…"

"Oh, Shorty," Apis laughed. Immediately her friend—Shortstop, she'd called him?—sputtered.

"Don't _call_ me that!" I was reminded of Skywarp and Starscream and couldn't help but snicker. Shortstop glared at me. "What're you laughing at, Airhead?"

I bristled, but only slightly, since my amusement made me less sensitive to insults. "Nothing. Shorty."

"We're going out," Apis announced loudly enough for the whole shop to hear. "See you later, Shorty!"

* * *

"'Crusher likes you a lot," Apis told me over our energon. She smirked up at me from under the edge of her helmet. "I guess when he found out about your little, ahaha, defect—"

"Hey!"

"—he thought it was hilarious. Anyway, he said you were nice and polite, too."

"I don't think I'd like it if he _didn't_ like me."

Her handlebars wiggled happily. "Probably not, but when 'Crusher likes you, he _really_ likes you." She took another gulp of energon. "But you didn't come here to talk about 'Crusher, did you?"

My fuel tank contracted. Stalling, I glanced around at the other patrons of the small restaurant. "I'll tell you later."

"I understand." Another gulp, another little twitch of her handlebars. "How about this weather we've been having?"

* * *

She didn't mention the war until we were walking along a deserted street—I recognized the route to her rooftop hideaway.

"We don't get much news here," she said, "and definitely not from someone who was actually there. I didn't like not knowing what was happening… I was worried about you. What's going on?"

I told her about the northward push, even the destruction of Simfur. I didn't talk about the daily reality of the war, though she probably could have handled it.

"That's awful," she murmured, leading the way up the winding stairs. "All those innocent bots…"

"All of that's going to change," I promised as we came out onto the roof. "From now on we won't attack civilians. If we take the moral advantage, it could rally more support to our cause. We'll concentrate on securing our freedom."

"How can you be so sure?"

This was it. I had to tell her now.

With a sigh, I gestured to her blanket. "We should sit down."

I couldn't look at her as I told her. Instead, I watched my pedes and let the words fall from my glossa, trying not to think of what would come next. I told her everything, then fell silent.

For a long time, we sat without speaking as she mulled it over and I fretted.

"I was Sparked after Axis," Apis said, and I glanced at her sidelong. She wasn't looking at me, but at her fidgeting hands. "I heard the stories, but I didn't know anything to back them up. The only Decepticons I ever met were slaves and they… well, they weren't so bad. Not as bad as the Autobots taught us, anyway. To me they all seemed like normal mechs. I didn't like that they were slaves. It didn't seem right. That's why I came here. And I thought, what if there was someone who could free them? There needed to be someone who would fight without hatred, or else the killing would just keep going and the Decepticons really would be the monsters that the Autobots said they were.

"I hoped it would happen, but as I got older I realized that there weren't many people like that anymore. There was too much hate, and everyone was too set in their ways to change. So I thought it would never happen, that the Decepticons would stay slaves, and that it would just keep going.

"Then I met you. I knew there was something different about you. The more I got to know you, the more certain I was that you could be the one I'd been looking for. Listening to you talk just now… about the war and everything… you're the one who can change things."

She swiveled to take my face in her hands.

"You're the best thing that could possibly have happened to the Decepticons," she told me. "And I'm the luckiest bot on this whole planet because I have you." She leaned in and kissed me at the corner of my mouth. "And as for Megatron… you aren't your creator, Nova." My optics widened—that was exactly what Optimus had said. "I don't care who wrote your programming. You're nothing like him. You are your own mech."

I stared at her, hardly able to believe my audios. It didn't matter to her whether my creator was Megatron or the Unmaker himself. She still wanted me.

I had never wanted to kiss someone so much, but a short-out would have ruined this moment, so instead I pulled her close, reassuring myself that this was real, that _she _was real, that I had been accepted by the two bots who mattered the most. She held me in return, little handlebars flicking back and forth in joy.

Finally, I drew back, struggling to say something.

"Apis, I…"

She interrupted me. "Nova… let's race."

Right now there was no war, not for me; as we raced each other through the dusty streets of this tiny Neutral settlement, we were just two young bots enjoying life.


	19. Trypticon

**A/N: **Lemur wrote most of the Apis bit, I just did my usual manipulation.

* * *

**19. Trypticon**

* * *

My perspective had changed. Although I'd known the command team for vorns, I had to consider them from a different angle, judging their strengths and weaknesses, their individual styles, their psychology and their relationships with each other.

I no longer had the luxury of uncertainty. I could not forget that they were all Decepticons—they preyed on weakness. I couldn't show them any.

"It makes no sense to continue our northward assault when the regions closest to us aren't secured," I told them. "Autobots are stationed in Trypticon and Vos. Why spread out our forces when one attack on Kaon could cripple us?"

"The Autobot forces in both Trypticon and Vos are strong," Trannis said.

"All the more reason for us to deal with them before spreading our army out any further," I said. So far, so good. "I suggest Trypticon first. It's a defensible position, for us, and the fortress there…"

"…has never been breached," Starscream interrupted. "And the Autobots are inside. They have the supplies they need to outlast a siege for decavorns."

"I agree," Stryka added. "Ve built zat fortress to be impenetrable, and now ze Autobots are using it against us."

I processed that. "If the fortress were destroyed, would it be worth it? I'd sooner have it gone than in Autobot possession."

"It's impossible," Starscream cut in again. "Even if we hit it with everything we have, it wouldn't fall. An army of Omega Sentinels might dent the walls, perhaps."

"I don't suppose we've got any lying around?"

To my surprise, everyone looked at Shockwave.

"Well," he said. I nodded. "There are some guardians in my care, but unfortunately we do not have energon to spare reactivating and fueling them, even for a few orns. The largest stock of energon we have—had—is beneath Trypticon."

"If I may?" It was Thunderwing. Starscream looked in the other direction, but I couldn't afford to let Seeker tradition affect how I dealt with the trineless scientist.

"Speak."

"I have spent centivorns developing special exoskeletal armor that may help." His optics gleamed in excitement. "It is designed to maximize both defensive and offensive power. It acts as a symbiote, but it is merely an extension of the wearer's will, hardly different than the fabled Apex armor of Sentinel Prime. This armor renders the wearer virtually unstoppable. If the carapace were bonded to, say, you yourself, Lord Nova…"

"It's untested," Starscream hissed.

"Unnatural," Trannis said nearly simultaneously.

"You're delusional, Thunderwing," Starscream continued. "Keep your little toy. We'll find another way."

"There is no other way," Thunderwing said.

"That's enough," I said. Still… if Thunderwing wasn't exaggerating, this could be the way out or in. _Virtually unstoppable. _The thought of such power made my Spark flare. That anyone… that _I_ could wield it… was tempting. "I'll consider it, Thunderwing, since it seems to be the only option. Show me this armor of yours. The rest of you, keep thinking. I'll see you all back here in two megacycles."

Starscream intercepted me before I'd taken two steps. The others left or talked amongst themselves; Thunderwing waited by the door. "Nova," my creator hissed. "Thunderwing's experiments… they're dangerous. And…" His face twisted into something equal parts unsettled and disgusted. "…wrong."

"I didn't hear _you_ come up with any suggestions," I said, pulling away and meeting up with Thunderwing at the exit.

Thunderwing's laboratory was in the lower levels. "I keep it dim," he explained. "The light could be harmful to some of the materials I work with." I nodded and he led the way inside. "This research began as a way to enhance standard armor. The basic concept is really quite simple: the carapace is grafted directly onto the wearer; it adjusts to most frame types. The prototype is designed for Seekers, but with minor tweaks, I've begun construction on shells suitable for other models as well. The armor is practically impenetrable. In addition to the obvious defensive benefits, the shell bolsters the wearer's self-repair and weapons systems."

"How much energy does this require?" I asked, following him deeper into the lab. Things hissed and bubbled in the dark.

"Very little. In fact, the shell reduces the wearer's need for energon. With further enhancements, I hope to eliminate energon dependency. Here we are."

He connected remotely to a heavy door. "Pardon the security, Commander. I take great pride in my work, and I'd hate for anything to happen to it."

The door opened onto what looked like the central area of the lab. Though there were other curiosities, the room was dominated by a cylindrical tank containing something dark and mech-shaped. I approached cautiously, trying to take a reading.

"You'll find it far superior to outer shells such as the Apex-class armor. The exoskeleton is spliced directly into the neuro-cortex in order to maximize the wearer's control."

"So it isn't a question of putting it on and taking it off?"

"Not at all. That would be too easy for an enemy to dislodge. As I said, the shell is grafted directly onto the wearer's armor."

Upon closer inspection, the armor seemed modeled off of insectoid organics. Half of it was solid plating; the rest formed an indistinct cloud. That was what would bond with the wearer. I reached out to lay my fingertips on the glass. What looked to me like black cables surged out of the smudgy cloud and clanked against the inside of the tank. I jerked my hand away, suddenly uneasy.

"What _is_ that?" I asked. "What is it made of?"

"Tissues collected from various subjects. The raw materials—"

"Wait, _what_? You mean you made this from corpses?"

Thunderwing blinked. "Not at all. The tissue must be living for the polydermal grafting process to work effectively."

Battling a growing need to purge my tanks, I backed away. "And you want me to let that thing _bind_ to me? Permanently?"

"Lord Nova, think of the power that this form will grant you—how little cost you would pay! This could end the war!"

"By making myself a weapon of mass destruction? I'm fine as I am." I cast another horrified glance up at the armor shell. "This… this is… no. We'll find another way."

I retreated as quickly as dignity would allow, leaving the scientist alone with his creation. Leaving Thunderwing's lab, I came up against a sickly green cyclebot.

"Oil Slick reporting for duty, Lord Nova," he said, in an unhealthy, greasy voice. "Lord Starscream informs me that you're having trouble breaking into Trypticon. I believe I may have something that can help."

* * *

"This," Oil Slick said, holding up a piece of metal, "is battle-grade cybertrate, also called siege-grade because this is what all our siege armature was made of during the War. This is what the really sensible rich mechs are made of. Optimus Prime, for instance. Your outer armor is made of a structurally altered version: keeps the strength, but it's only about twenty-five percent as heavy. It's the strongest known substance, and Trypticon is made of layers of it."

He dropped the cybertrate into a containment tank and sealed it save for a hole at the top. "And this," he continued, holding up a small vial of brown liquid, "is our secret weapon."

He lifted the vial and tipped it slowly, optics focused and hand steady. He allowed two drops to fall through the hole before sealing the containment field and the vial. The liquid landed on the cybertrate sample. Evil-looking smoke gushed up, trapped in the tank, and brown splotches spread quickly over the metal's surface. Holes grew in the center of the discoloration, and within kliks, the metal had completely dissolved.

"What _is_ that?"

"The Autobots call it Cosmic Rust," Oil Slick answered proudly. "One of my greatest inventions. We used it in such situations as these during the War. Imagine what this does to Autobot armor."

"I'd rather not," I answered. He chuckled.

"Of course not. Though it seems a shame to pass up such a powerful weapon."

"I will pass up as many powerful weapons as I must in order to get my point across," I hissed. "I am not interested in the pointless destruction of Autobots. If your 'Cosmic Rust' can get us into Trypticon, then we'll use it. But I will not permit its use primarily on living targets. Is that understood?"

"Understood, sir."

* * *

The fortress at Trypticon really was impressive, with the forbidding spiked architecture favored in the Decepticon city-states. The streets surrounding it were empty; not an Autobot to be seen.

_/Strange,/_ Starscream remarked as his trine dipped in low above Hurricane and me. _/They're already holed up in the fortress./_

_/They couldn't have known that we were coming,/ _I answered. _/They should have expected an attack on one of the northern city-states./_

_/Unless they were warned in advance,/ _Starscream said grimly.

_/We'll deal with that later./ _I checked to see that Lugnut and Octane, a tanker jet, were still following us. _/Prepare to drop your canisters./_

_/Ready and eager,/ _Octane replied cheekily. _/Let's oxidize this baby./_

I'd have sighed if my vents weren't otherwise occupied. Though Octane was necessary to the plan, he had a talent at grinding my gears. _/Start your run. We'll cover you./_

Trypticon was heavily armed. We fired at wherever the shots came from in an effort to keep the gunners' heads down.

_/The crosswind is coming from dead east,/ _Starscream warned over the general comm. _/The smoke will blow over the fortress, but stay alert./_

I didn't want any of my own soldiers to be caught in the chemical attack. Lugnut and Octane jettisoned Oil Slick's specially-designed canisters and we followed as they veered away. The canisters would explode on impact, sending Cosmic Rust everywhere… but mostly on the wall of the fortress directly before the main causeway. Two kliks later, the canisters struck. Brown rust spread rapidly as the metal walls oxidized.

_/Will that be enough?/ _Hurricane commed.

_/Give it a salvo to be sure,/ _I said. _/But be careful to stay away from that smoke./_

We went in for a run, firing on the growing brown spots; the unhealthy, brittle metal disintegrated easily, leaving a wide-open entrance.

_/Oil Slick always knows what he's doing,/ _Skywarp crowed. _/Look at them running around like chickens with their heads cut off!/_

Restraining the urge to ask what a "chicken" was, I sent the order over our general frequency. _/The door is open. Decepticons, attack!/_

They complied in a roar of engines. The aerial forces arrived first; I fell back and allowed Starscream to take the lead. Though I now outranked him, he was still the Air Commander and knew more about aerial strategy than I did. What had been the Autobots' safe haven became their undoing as they were trapped inside the fortress. I had given strict orders that any who wished to surrender would be allowed to, and I'd emphasized the goal of taking prisoners rather than wreaking as much destruction as possible.

Although the first few levels were high enough to fly in (this fortress had been designed for flight-capable Decepticons), the halls quickly grew shorter, pushing more and more of us to the ground. The Autobots fought with strength born of desperation, but many saw quickly that the situation was hopeless and surrendered before they had sustained much damage.

A furious bellow and a powerful cannon blast drew my attention to one of the upper levels. After a moment, I recognized the Autobot fighter as Ironhide. I'd heard stories about him from the rest of the Decepticons; now I saw where they came from. Ironhide was fierce and formidable, taking on groups of Decepticons as they came and leaving them battered.

I hadn't quite decided how I would handle this when Ironhide spotted me. With a roar, he lunged for me. Immediately, several of the nearby Decepticons moved to intercept him, but Ironhide brushed them off like Insecticons. A backwards leap saved me from a heavy fist to the faceplates.

"Ironhide, wait, it's me!" I tried.

"Yeah, I know," he growled in response, the cannons on his arms charging with a whine. "Ran off to join the Decepticons, after all Prime's slag about everyone deserving a chance at freedom, after everything he did for you!"

I dodged, and not a moment too soon. His cannonfire tore up the floor where I'd just been standing. "It's not like that."

"Then what's it like?" he bellowed back. "Enough talk! Shoot, frag you!"

I remembered riding on Ironhide's shoulders as a sparkling; he wouldn't truly attempt to offline me unless I provoked him. I landed, keeping my arms at my sides. "I'm not going to fight you, Ironhide."

He scowled, cannons still cycling and whining. "I ought to slag you right here."

"You won't," I answered. "It's not like you."

"Hmph. Because I have _honor_, I won't terminate an unresisting enemy." He approached, cannons still at the ready, and stopped only when they were mere ticks from my cockpit and chestplates. "The Senate's ordered you taken, functional or not. I think Optimus would prefer functional."

"I said I wouldn't fight you," I said, tensing up. There were some things that were worse than termination; slavery was one of them. "I didn't say I'd let you take me."

Energy flashed past my optics, momentarily overloading my sensors. Once they reset, I saw Ironhide lying on the ground an astrometer away. Starscream landed beside me, sneering at the prone Autobot.

"You're welcome," he said. "You can't get away with _not_ killing Autobots. It won't work." I ignored him in favor of going to Ironhide. "It was only a null-ray. Don't get your wires twisted."

I checked on the reports coming over the comm frequencies. Some Autobots had escaped, but most were trapped inside. The Decepticons were tracking down the last few Autobots roaming at large.

I explored upwards, running my hands over the elaborately carved glyphs on the walls, spanning dialects and history. Some of them I couldn't read at all; those I could described ancient battles and powerful Decepticon warriors, most terminated long ago. In an upper hall, I found a somewhat fanciful description of Starscream (it downplayed his abrasive personality), along with accounts of infamous battles in which he'd participated. There was still space at the bottom, room for more. Megatron came further along, taking up an entire wall. I wondered if my designation would ever be carved into the walls of Trypticon, then laughed out loud, the sound echoing off the high ceilings.

Just beyond Megatron's wall was a set of massive doors, leading into what I could only guess had been his quarters. I wondered if every Decepticon city-state had living arrangements for Megatron and his generals.

Nobody had come with me, so when I heard a faint shift of metal on metal, I went on guard immediately. There was an Autobot here, waiting until he could sneak away. My sensors picked up nothing, but I stayed alert.

"I know you're here," I said loudly.

"'Course I'm here. I'm right on top of you."

I whirled, but saw no one. That voice, however… I knew that voice. "Jazz? Show yourself!"

"Chill, little guy. If I'd wanted to off you I'da done it when you walked in."

"Where are you?"

"They never look up. Come on, kid, you're a Seeker. You should know this!"

I looked up. The black-and-white Autobot was splayed out on the ceiling.

"Magnetic fields," he said. "Get me into some unusual places."

"Planning on coming down?"

"Dunno. You gonna call your troops on me, Commander?"

"That depends on what you're doing here."

"Well, I wasn't gonna play spider. How 'bout this: you promise not to call in your mechs and I'll come down there and tell you something interesting."

"Fine. I won't call them."

Jazz dropped from the ceiling. "Not bad for a groundpounder, right?"

"Not bad," I conceded. "What do you have to tell me?"

"There's been some muttering in your army. Seems you managed to get someone mad at you already."

"Muttering…? Wait, how would _you_ know?"

Jazz grinned. "Really? We're not deaf. Intel head's good at his job."

"Why tell me this? Wouldn't it be better for the Autobots if there were internal issues among the Decepticons?"

"You kidding? Megatron and Starscream were the _definition_ of 'internal issues' and _that_ didn't do us any good. Besides, I saw how you handled that battle. With that Cosmic Rust you coulda wiped us out without firing a shot. Instead you break down a wall. And when we're all running around like chickens with our heads cut off…" (That phrase again! I resolved to ask Skywarp later what a "chicken" was and how it could run without a head.) "…and you 'cons coulda made scrap outta our whole legion, you round up prisoners. I see what you're doing, and I like it. So you could say I've got a personal interest in keeping you in power. And for that, I'm telling you to watch your back, 'cause someone might try an' make trouble for you sometime soon."

"I'll pay attention," I said. Then, because I felt it was only polite, "Thank you. But how do you know all this?"

"Highbrow's got optics everywhere," Jazz said. "So, how's about you let me go now?"

"You can't just walk out of here," I protested. "How am I supposed to know you'll actually leave?"

"Kid, you've known me since you came up to my knee. I owe Prime a lot. I won't stick around—no pun intended."

I hesitated. "Fine," I said. "Get out of here."

"I'll say hi to Prime for you. I would say you'll see me around, but hey, you probably won't."

"Primus help you if I do," I answered.

"Woah, tough guy. Nice to see Prime didn't spoil you permanently. I'm outta here."

He vanished out the door. I shook my head. Starscream was right; I had to stop fraternizing with the enemy. But these were my friends, mechs I'd known since my memory core had begun to record… and Ironhide was a powerful warrior who had terminated countless Decepticons, while Jazz was head of Special Ops and could be up to anything, undermining our plans, spying, sabotaging. It was a serious problem, one that I would have to face.

Repair work started on the walls right away. Our energon shortage was alleviated, although this was only temporary until our factories and refineries were running again. The Autobots had been holding Decepticon prisoners here, not a legion's worth but more than a handful. We took any reinforcements we could get with our forces stretched across several city-states.

After overseeing whatever needed my approval, I retired to Megatron's—my—quarters, checked the ceiling, then explored further. My most notable discovery was the controls for the windows: a touch to the right button made an entire section of the fortress's armor slide away. Lugnut, who insisted on standing guard outside, looked in to discover the source of the sound. Digging out a cube from my subspace, I settled down in the uncomfortably large throne-like chair to rest for a moment.

A breem later, the door hissed open.

"Nova?"

"Over here," I answered, drawing Ramrod over.

"Primus, this thing is big. Megatron must have had a flair for the dramatic, don't you think?"

I responded with a noncommittal noise. He leaned against the chair.

"Busy orn," he commented.

"It was. Did you want something?" He wasn't usually one to make small talk.

"I thought you did well," Ramrod answered, which wasn't much of an answer at all.

"The Autobots knew we were coming. I think there's a spy among us."

"You'd think we'd know," he said. "This army goes way back. Everyone knows each other; it's not like someone new shows up and we don't know anything about him. We all have reasons to hate the Autobots. Except you, but I don't think you're a spy."

"Yes, but there must be someone who stands out." I would ask Soundwave when I returned to Kaon; a telepath could investigate subtly. "Am I really the only one who doesn't hate Autobots?"

"You weren't a slave," he said. "You'd hate them too."

"What did your master do to you?" I asked. Instantly, I regretted it… what sort of a question was that? It was too personal, probably brought up too many memories.

Ramrod seemed reluctant to answer. His fingers tightened on his arms. "Everything," he growled. "And he enjoyed every klik. I don't really want to talk about it."

"But you escaped."

"Lucky thing, too." He laughed humorlessly. "It's funny, but I remember that more clearly than all the rest of it. Still as vivid as the first orn after."

"Maybe if I'd gone through that, I'd be stronger."

"_No_." It was vehement, and I looked at him in surprise. He shook his head fervently. "It would _ruin_ you, Nova. I never want you to go through that." He leaned down to look me in the optics.

"You're strong enough as it is."

* * *

I sent Starscream back to Kaon with much of the army, then (since I knew Lugnut wouldn't leave me alone and I needed someone to distract him) brought Hurricane and Lugnut with me as I flew for Khalkon.

"I hate dust," Hurricane grumbled gloomily.

"Then stay inside and have a cube or something. And distract Lugnut for me, will you?"

He sighed heavily but nodded, and I slipped inside Steelcrusher's store.

My idea of a perfect orn was dropping everything to spend a few megacycles with Apis. I told her what I'd been up to lately, sharing my concerns about the possible mutiny Jazz had mentioned and the likelihood of a spy among us. We lazed in her quarters, as she told me about her life in the settlement, the antics of her friends, the strange customers who came in, the new shipment of parts and how frustrating it was to organize everything.

"I'm sorry," she giggled after a while. "But compared to what you've been telling me, this must all seem so boring."

"Not at all," I assured her. "Normal mechs doing normal things… it helps remind me what I'm fighting for. And I want to know all about what you've been doing. I don't want to miss anything."

Apis hummed, half-turning from where she sat on my lap to curl into my side. "It's nice to spend time with you."

I set down my own cube and leaned back, taking her with me so she was sprawled across my front. I linked my hands around the small of her back and nuzzled the side of her face. "Peace and quiet is rare for me now." I pressed a kiss to the underside of her jaw. "Having a beautiful femme to spend it with makes it all the better."

Apis chuckled. "Who's this 'beautiful femme' you're talking about?" she joked. "I'm gonna git jealous if you keep talking like that."

I grinned into her neck and stroked the wheel-halves on her back as her little engine purred. "Well, she's small and orange. She's pretty fast… for a groundpounder." She smacked my shoulder and I kissed her cheek. "She's got these adorable handlebars…" I kissed the corner of her mouth and said handlebars wiggled happily. "…and even though she can't see it for herself, she's the most beautiful femme I've ever met." I smiled up into her orange optics, which stared wide and amazed back at me.

"Nova," she sighed, kissing as close to my mouth as she dared, "you are entirely too good for me. You're out saving the world while I'm here selling spare parts." Embarrassed, I tried to protest, but she hushed me. "It takes a brave, selfless mech to do what you're doing," she said, optics soft. "And I am proud to love a mech like you."

She beamed and I wanted to kiss her more than anything, never mind that I crashed every time I attempted it. I wanted to try again.

I pushed myself onto my elbows and moved to brush my mouthplates against hers.

Apis stayed stock-still, but as time passed and it became apparent that I was still conscious, she hesitantly moved to reciprocate. We parted as slowly as we'd come together.

"Nova, you… you didn't crash!" Apis said, and her pride made me grin and lean in again. She wrapped her arms around my shoulders while one of my hands moved to rest in the curve of her waist, the other cupping the back of her neck. This one was more passionate than the first as we pressed closer together, humming vents, heated systems and blissful, annoying darkness—_wait_…

Fraggit.

I came online flat on my back with a giggling femme on my chest. Apis's mirth only increased at my frustrated groan and she leaned forward to softly brush her mouthplates against mine.

"Don't worry, love," she said, and Primus did that make my systems melt, and her wicked grin made yet another cooling fan kick in. "Practice makes perfect."

* * *

I felt wonderfully relaxed by the time we flew back to Kaon. It was good that I had Apis, I reflected. I valued the physical outlet that Ramrod offered, but he'd said himself that emotional connection and deep relationships weren't his strong suits. Apis was the one who reminded me who I was and why I was doing this.

We came in low over Kaon.

_/Finally home,/ _Hurricane said gloomily. _/I need a trip to the washracks… all this dust is jamming my—/_

Cannonfire rang out and Hurricane gave a squawk over the comm, falling, transforming, smoke trailing behind him. I dove after him but more fire brought me up short. Desperate, I tried again, but I couldn't dive fast enough. I saw him hit the ground just before a shot clipped my wing, sending me spinning.

_/Hurricane! Hurricane, respond!/_

There was no answer. Lugnut sent a burst of static and though I couldn't understand his words, I followed his example, diving below the shots. We landed just outside the base, guns aimed, and I was about to demand an explanation when I recognized the mechs who had fired on us. I hadn't expected to see any of them again: Legonis, his face warped and melted, Octus, and Seizer, flanked by Skystalker and Thunderwing. Legonis and Skystalker, the largest of the group, held Starscream between them, Legonis's blaster wedged under his jaw.

"Stand down and lower your weapons, or his face will end up like mine," Legonis commanded, blaster humming.

"What's the meaning of this?" I demanded, motioning for Lugnut to put his arms down.

"The meaning of this," Legonis answered, still not lowering his blaster, "is that leadership of the Decepticons has been taken over by the Triumvirate."

* * *

**A/N: **Whoops. Guess I forgot the little roadsign that reads "Warning: Cliffhanger Ahead."


	20. Internal Issues

**20. Internal Issues**

* * *

"You, lead the Decepticons?" I demanded incredulously. Legonis shoved his blaster harder under Starscream's jaw.

"I will only tell you once again," he said, not quite confident yet. "Lower your weapons."

I signaled for Lugnut to power down his weapons and slowly lowered my own arms. Nothing good would come of stubbornness now, not when we were outnumbered. Starscream wasn't expendable; I was in no position to call any bluffs when I was unsure.

"Much better," Legonis said, relaxing, confident, but still menacing Starscream with his blaster. "Now we can talk like civilized mechs."

Starscream snorted. "How civilized is it when you've got a blaster pointed at someone?"

Legonis snarled at him. "Don't test me."

"Why are you doing this?" I cut in before Starscream could inflame matters any further.

It was Octus who responded. "We simply feel that the Decepticon cause would be better served by another leader, or leaders. Someone with more experience, with more of a, hmm, Decepticon vision." He hesitated, and my hands clenched into fists. I knew what he was about to say. "Someone… less… Autobot."

"We don't want to terminate you," Seizer added. "The troops seem unusually fond of you, and explaining things could be difficult. But if you were to step aside and lend us your support, everything would go smoothly."

"That doesn't mean we won't kill you if you prove stubborn," continued Legonis. "Really, Nova." He made my name sound like an insult. "You don't know how to handle an army. You lean on this traitor for everything…"

"Oh, _I'm_ a traitor?" Starscream burst out. Legonis sneered at him.

"At best you'd never be more than a puppet," he finished to me.

"And how is that different than what you want for me?" I said bitterly. "I won't follow you."

"Pity," Legonis said. "Well, I am confident that we'll have sufficient support from the rest of the command team. As you can see, Skystalker and Thunderwing have pledged us their loyalty."

Starscream shot a venomous glare at the other Seeker, who looked back with smoldering satisfaction.

"It's nothing against you, Nova," he said, still watching Starscream. "But you are an extension of Starscream's will, and Starscream never respected me."

"Trineless slag," Starscream hissed. Thunderwing crossed the distance between them in one stride, finger shooting out to point at me.

"_He_ is trineless now!" he spat. "You would never change your opinion of him!" His voice lowered to a threatening, delighted purr. "I wonder, how will you like it when _you_ are trineless?"

Never had I seen Starscream's face twisted into such an expression of hatred. He spoke quietly and clearly. "If you touch my wingmates, I will make you beg for death."

"Vhat is going on here?"

I looked behind me to see Stryka, Soundwave, and Flamewar.

"Ah, Generals," Octus greeted. "We summoned you as witnesses for a shift in power."

"Vhat kind of 'shift?'"

"To us," Legonis said. "Your support is appreciated."

"You presume much," Stryka rumbled, coming up beside Lugnut. "And you dare to point weapons at _my _consort! Vhat is the meaning of this?"

"Patience, my dear… lady. If Lugnut will lend us his strength, he will be unharmed."

"Zen I am your enemy, because he vould never serve anyone but the true Decepticon leader," the massive warrior answered, tapping a finger on my shoulder—the equivalent of resting her hand there.

"Triumvirate: illogical," Soundwave put in. "Nova: superior."

"I don't know," Flamewar purred, and everyone looked at her. She put her hands on her hips and smirked at me. "You're cute… but not _that_ cute. And you _did_ reject me for that tin-plated brawler." She sauntered over, sliding between Legonis and Octus to lean on Legonis from behind. "You lot are just so… Decepticon."

I couldn't help but feel betrayed. I ought to have known. But Flamewar spoke again.

"But then… so am I," she said, and the end of an energon blade bloomed abruptly from Legonis's chest. Before the shell had hit the floor, she had turned on Octus, the next in line, and Starscream was free. In the klik of confusion, I hurled myself on the third member of the triumvirate, bringing him to the ground; in the same moment, I heard Soundwave ordering Frenzy and Rumble to eject, and Stryka barreled forward, roaring, "_No bot threatens my Luggy-Poo!_" before hitting Skystalker with the force of a cannon blast.

By the time Seizer had stopped fighting and begun begging, Legonis and Octus had greyed over, as had what remained of Skystalker after he had endured Stryka's wrath. There were two mechs missing.

A rushing whistle preceded a ground-shaking crash. I saw Starscream's wings rising from the impact crater. He perched on the sparking wreck of Thunderwing, who—amazingly—still functioned.

"Spare me," the weak voice rose. Starscream sneered.

"You threatened my wingmates." His null-rays powered up, bright and dangerous, point-blank at the other Seeker's helm. "Oh, wait. You wouldn't understand."

Ordinarily Starscream's null-rays were nonlethal; at that range, to that delicate circuitry, they may as well have been a fusion cannon. Thunderwing collapsed to the cracked metal beneath him. I turned my attention back to the final conspirator.

"Mercy," Seizer sobbed beneath me, cowardice coming to the surface at the collapse of his allies. "Mercy, Lord Nova, please, I beg of you!"

Part of me considered it, but I knew that could only lead to more trouble. I hooked my claws under his chestplate and lodged my free arm rifle between the plating. "I thought you wanted me to act like a Decepticon."

I felt no remorse at his termination; had I left him alive, he'd have tried again. I stood and glared at Flamewar.

"What?" she asked. "You thought I'd actually work with them? Or are you just mad because I called your boytoy something mean?"

"Thank you for your help. Soundwave?"

"Yes, Lord Nova?"

"Make sure that Flamewar gets a few shifts of monitor duty in the near future, will you?"

"Acknowledged."

* * *

The first task after we gave the bodies to Undertaker ("Make sure those wings are intact, he should like that," I'd said) was to treat Hurricane's frame with more respect. I couldn't find it in me to be too sad about his termination, since he'd sought death for decavorns. I resolved myself instead to wait patiently for a new trine. I wanted one of my own more than ever, but for now the gap yawned widely in my programming.

The attempted overthrow taught me caution and vigilance. Although I wouldn't admit it to anyone, it had also shaken my confidence. I wanted what was best for the Decepticons, and Legonis's poisonous words had found their mark: _You don't know how to handle an army._ _At best you'd never be more than a puppet_.

I was careful to keep my optics and audios finely tuned to catch any signs of unrest in the ranks. The closest thing to that was discontent among our fliers.

Starscream approached me on the subject. I'd been discussing our resources with Shockwave—there were factories and refineries in Kaon, Tarn, and Trypticon, but we had few resources and fewer mechs to run them. We had energon for now, mostly from the stock buried beneath Trypticon, but that supply would not last forever. The Constructicons remained absent, and we'd received no reports of their whereabouts. We had a few generally useful medics, but if what I'd heard about the gestalt was true, we needed their aid in the most desperate situations. Our medics could only do so much to deal with major wounds; we needed mechs with the Constructicons' training.

Shockwave spoke to the end of his sentence, then asked, "Did you require something, Starscream?"

"Yes. Him." Starscream tried to pull me away, but Shockwave interrupted.

"We are discussing matters of consequence."

"And I'm sure that Nova is bored out of his processor. I'll send him back soon enough."

Without listening to Shockwave's protests, Starscream gripped my arm and towed me from the command center.

"Don't I get any say in this?"

"Of course not."

"Of course not, how silly of me, I'm only the Supreme Commander."

He shot me a sly grin. "Don't even try that on me, scraplet. I was leader before you could ingest your own energon."

"Did you come just to save me from terminal boredom, or do you actually have something to talk about?" I recognized that he was leading me towards the Tower.

"Actually, yes, I do. Our fliers have been getting restless."

"Yes, I noticed."

"Vos," Starscream said. "Our home city, where most of us were built and Sparked. We haven't been there for astrocycles, some of us. Centivorns at least."

"You want to take Vos." It wasn't a question.

"It's a strategic position, it's nearby, there are slaves there… it will improve morale."

I sighed through my vents. "What will we have to do?"

"I will lead the fliers we have in Kaon. It won't take long: Vos was built for us, and groundpounders can barely move there, let alone hold it against an aerial assault."

"Fine," I decided. "When do we leave?"

"You stay here."

"What?" I stopped. "What do you mean, I'll stay here? I won't stay behind when there's a battle to be fought!"

Starscream turned to face me. "You'll stay behind and help Soundwave sniff out our spy. I've just called all fliers to the Tower. They will be the only ones who know our destination. If the Autobots are ready for us, then a flier has betrayed us. If not, a groundpounder."

"Right. But I need your help."

"You don't need my help," he said softly. After a moment he grinned again. "You'll have Soundwave to take care of you, and I'll be back soon to keep everything from falling apart."

We entered the Tower together. It didn't take long for the air force to gather; they all knew where they were headed, and it excited them.

"Impressive," I said, and I meant it. Assembled before me were fliers of every build; shuttles, gliders, Seekers, tetrajets, perfection made machine, all sleek lines and aerodynamic plates. My Spark warmed in its casing with the knowledge that I was one of them.

"Decepticons!" Starscream called, and all optics were on him immediately. "Brothers," Starscream added to his wingmates alone, tinged with affection and pride, before returning his attention to the fliers at large. "We fly to Vos!"

The reaction was a roar. Each flier expressed his joy differently, but all were united in their longing for home. Starscream basked in it, his optics narrowing to slits. The gathering gradually hushed, all staring intently at their commander. For a klik that felt like an astrocycle, there was utter silence, as each mech waited for the order. Starscream, if possible, held himself higher, feeding off their anticipation.

"Decepticons," he said, "transform and rise up."

They complied with a roar of thrusters and a cacophony of shifting plates and grinding gears, and I would have given almost anything to join them. But my duty was to remain in Kaon, so I watched the armada take to the sky, Starscream at its head. The scream of their engines echoed in my audios long after they had vanished from sight.

* * *

"All right, Soundwave," I said, sitting down across from him. "How do you intend to catch the spy?"

"Method: telepathy."

I tilted my head doubtfully. "You mean to search every processor in this army until you find an Autobot?"

"Affirmative."

"Then start with the command team," I told him. "That's the most urgent."

"Affirmative." Soundwave's helm dipped, then lifted. "Suggestion: begin immediately?"

"Yes, excellent."

I was about to get up when a tingle whirled through my fuel lines. I hit the seat again, feeling Soundwave's consciousness brush against mine. "Me?" I managed.

"Above suspicion: none."

How unnerving, knowing that he could read my thoughts, that he could see everything, from my earliest childhood memories to my close moments with Starscream, from my intimate encounters with Ramrod to my tender moments with Apis to…

Optimus. My Spark lurched—he would see my rendezvous with the Autobot leader. What would he do? What would he say?

It was a short while before Soundwave's visor flashed and his hold released. "Task: completed."

I waited for it, sure that any moment he would ask why I'd gone to see Optimus. It had to be coming. But still Soundwave remained silent, regarding me impassively. I shifted, uncertain.

"Concern: unnecessary," Soundwave intoned. "Logic: understood."

Air hissed out of my vents in a sigh of relief. "Thank you. You should move on to the others."

"Affirmative."

* * *

I was in the command center when the reports started coming in from Vos. It infuriated me not to be there, seeing and hearing it all for myself. My control over the battle was diluted by distance, but Starscream was at his best, directing the aerial troops with far greater competence than I could have.

Finally, the welcome call came that the Autobots were retreating. I allowed myself to sit down for the first time in megacycles, feeling my knee joints release at last. Someone brought me a cube of energon and I gulped it down, suddenly realizing just how low my fuel level had gotten.

"Leave a portion of your force there," I commanded, relaying my orders to Starscream through Soundwave. "Bring the freed mechs back here."

"The Autobots flee towards Praxus," he answered. "We have the advantage in speed, we could stop them before they reach their destination."

"No. Let them go. We can take things to Praxus later."

"All right, _fine_. We'll get some settled in here and be on our way tomorrow." He cut the link without so much as a farewell… typical Starscream.

"Have Trannis come back with some of the force at Trypticon," I said. "Our next destination is Praxus."

Praxus was an Autobot stronghold, a military target, and the move was justified. We'd had good luck so far; perhaps it was time to truly put it to the test.


	21. Defeat

**A/N:** Dancinglemur contributed to portions of this chapter. This chapter corresponds with Rise Extras 9-12.

* * *

**21. Defeat**

* * *

I sat with Starscream's trine in their quarters, celebrating the victory at Vos with high-grade.

"They were completely unprepared," Starscream said, swirling the energon in his cube. "It's clear to me that our Autobot spy isn't a flier." He snickered. "Not that I doubted it. Groundpounders can't be trusted."

"Some would say the same of fliers," Thundercracker pointed out. Though he'd already had a considerable amount of high-grade, he didn't show the slightest sign of inebriation.

"What? Screamer's the most trustworthy person I know!" giggled Skywarp; he was much less successful at holding his energon.

"_Don't_ _call me that!_"

Skywarp snuggled shamelessly up to him, nuzzling beneath his jaw. "Aww, Screamer, don't be mad!"

"Starscream," Thundercracker said softly, deflating his wingleader, who had looked ready to pummel Skywarp. That was all it took, without any more words, without any sharpness in his tone. We shared a smile.

"How much of the command team has Soundwave scanned?" Starscream asked, this time letting Skywarp off with a warning.

I snorted—he was difficult to take seriously while his wingmate hung on him like that—and answered, "Almost all. Trannis should arrive within a few orns; he's the last."

"Bet you'll like that," tittered Skywarp. "Since your cutie's with him."

"_'Warp_," Thundercracker reprimanded as my faceplates heated up.

"What? It's no secret!"

"We're quieter than you three," I countered, prompting a hoot from the black-and-purple Seeker. Before he could respond, Thundercracker stepped in to change the subject.

"Praxus next? I thought you didn't want to go on the offensive any more than you had to."

"Well, why shouldn't he?" Starscream demanded. "It's our right. They took everything from us. Why should we leave anything to them?"

Thundercracker said nothing, but his optics were dim and thoughtful as he sipped his energon. I felt as though I should explain myself. "The Autobot Senate must be made to take us seriously."

Starscream looked up, but his wingmate cut off anything he'd been about to say.

"You are the commander, Nova," the blue Seeker said, optics still fixed on his energon. "We trust you."

* * *

"_What?_" I snarled into Shockwave's face. "First I was kept from Vos on the pretense of monitoring Soundwave as he did something he was _perfectly_ capable of doing on his own, and now you want me to stay here while everyone else goes to Praxus? What's your story this time? Is there a leaky energon dispenser I need to investigate? Did a light short out? Is there a crack in the wall for me to oversee personally?"

"There will be competent generals directing the battle," Shockwave tried. "Starscream has seen to that."

"I won't stay behind, nice and cozy and safe, while troops under my command go into battle!" I burst out. "I'm sending mechs to die and you tell me to stay here? At least have the backstrut to tell me why!"

A pause. Then Starscream looked at Shockwave. "He's right."

"We agreed—"

"Slag what we agreed." He turned to me. "The Senate has ordered your capture or termination at all costs."

"Is that all?" I laughed. " I was already working under that assumption. I can take care of myself."

"No you can't." The bland statement made me hiss furiously, but Starscream was unimpressed. "You're a good fighter, everyone knows that. But the Senate plays dirty, and they'll show no mercy, whether you were Prime's ward or not. Not every Autobot is Prime's friend; they won't all be reluctant to kill you."

"I—"

"You have _become_ the Decepticon cause, Nova. If you fall, so do we. You are more than our leader; you are a symbol. The Senate knows your power over the Decepticons, so they fear you. It is imperative that you remain free and functional." He held up a hand to forestall anything that I might have said. "Without you we would fall apart into endless power struggles." He paused, optics dimming. "And that is why we lost before. You will join us in battle soon, but as long as you're trineless, you are unprotected."

I understood Starscream's logic, but I hated it.

"Are you certain you wish to send in the army now, my Lord?" Shockwave asked. "After all, there is a spy among us. It may be wiser to gather more intelligence first."

"That would allow the Autobots more time to prepare," I answered. I had confidence in our victory—we had not lost yet. "Very well, Starscream, you win. I'll stay here."

* * *

As the troops advanced towards Praxus, I conferred with Soundwave regarding his investigation of my command team. He'd conducted a thorough examination of each mind in turn, beginning with me and ending with Trannis, who had come from Trypticon and paused in Kaon for three orns to refresh his mechs before moving on to Praxus, where he, Starscream, and Thundercracker would lead the assault. I was grateful that I could trust my generals; our most essential information was safe, at least.

I barely left the command center for orns, recharging only when Skywarp wrestled me into my quarters and stood guard at the door, refueling only when one of my Decepticons pressed a cube into my hands. Starscream and Thundercracker had gone without Skywarp because in this battle they would act as generals, not as a trine. I suspected another motive: someone had to stay to keep an optic on me. Neither of us was happy about being left behind.

We encountered the first Autobot resistance at the border of Praxus. The opening skirmish resulted in few casualties, since the Autobots retreated swiftly before our larger force.

"Good luck," Skywarp guessed.

"_Too_ good," I muttered. I paced around the command center. "Soundwave, tell them to be watchful," I told the Communications Officer. He nodded and relayed my order.

My predictable path around the room was soon cleared without prompting. Additional skirmishes pushed the megacycles past. The Autobots had set no large force against us.

"Tell them to send up aerial scouts," I said. "Make sure they aren't attacked from behind."

The scouts reported no Autobot activity in the army's wake, yet even so, I had a bad feeling about this.

"Perhaps they were not forewarned of our coming?" Shockwave ventured.

"Impossible," I replied. "This assault has been common knowledge among the ranks for a decacycle. The Autobots must have something planned."

Scarcely had I uttered this when communications went dead, triggering an alarm and a general shout. I vaulted to the upper level in a thruster-propelled leap, landing beside Soundwave.

"What happened?"

"Equipment here: functional. Malfunction: Praxus."

White noise and static came from the speakers.

"Fix it! We have to know what's going on out there."

"Attempting to execute."

I drummed my fingers nervously on my own arms, Spark twisting in anxiety. This was no coincidence. "We're being blocked?"

"Affirmative. Outside force: unknown. Hypothesis: Autobots."

"You _think?_ Hurry, Soundwave."

"Laserbeak: en route."

I turned to see Skywarp pacing back and forth. An awful sense of foreboding hung over me.

Then, quite suddenly, Skywarp screamed.

It was deafeningly loud. He collapsed to his knees with an electronic keen, wings trembling. I motioned the others back and crouched beside him.

"What's wrong?" I demanded. Skywarp shook his head violently.

"I don't know… it's like—like my Spark is being torn in half…" His optics flared in horrified realization as a voice broke weakly through the static.

"—nder… Commande-! –Sharpshooter here—in trouble—tobots came up fr—nderground, took us by—driven back—ambush…!"

"Soundwave, strengthen that signal. Sharpshooter, report."

"—ame up from the tunnels prac—lly right under our pedes… swarmed right over us… separated from each other. Can't f—d Trannis's group—nomech knows what to do, comm is out—Thundercr—r down, Stormfront down, Cloudch—er down—"

"Fall back," I commanded. "Get them to fall back, any way that you can, just get out of there and return to Decepticon territory."

"Affirmative. S—ooter out."

I stared at the blank screens. My memory banks helpfully supplied the faces of the mechs I'd sent to Praxus. I knew many personally. How many would I see alive again?

"TC!"

Skywarp's loud, anguished sob wrenched at my Spark; I knelt beside him again, so close that mere astroinches separated us. Skywarp reached up to tip my head forward as he bowed his own, touching our helms together in an ancient Seeker symbol for deepest grief. My Spark twisted in its casing; he had lost a wingmate, a bondmate, and I was the one responsible.

I couldn't endure it any more. "Send out fliers to cover their retreat," I ordered, then left before I lost control.

* * *

My altmode sliced through the sky over Kaon as I chased random patterns, pushing myself to top speed. I remembered the trail Thundercracker had led me along over Iacon, the loops and rolls and free-falls. But now there was no other Seeker darting sky-and-quicksilver ahead of me, no hands stroking my wings and comforting me until I slipped into recharge, no steadying voice breaking into Skywarp's and Starscream's bickering.

Thundercracker was gone.

Far above the city, I transformed and screamed until my voice broke into static.

When I had regained my composure, I flew back to headquarters, coming in through one of the less popular sky entrances to avoid everyone. I didn't have the struts to deal with their disappointment right now.

I entered my quarters, but I didn't feel much like recharging, nor like drinking a cube. I looked around, discontent.

Defeat. It was the first time my Decepticons hadn't been victorious in battle, and I felt the full weight of it. I should have been cautious, should have listened to Thundercracker, to Shockwave, to my own niggling doubts, but I'd been overconfident. I'd forgotten sense and sent those mechs to Praxus. Already the loss bit deep, straight into my own extended family. And what of the other mechs who'd gone? What of Trannis?

My energon turned to ice. _Ramrod_. He was in Trannis's unit… what had been his fate?

Restless and worried, I left my quarters and went to the command center. The reports continued to be bleak; few groups had made it out of range of the Autobots' jammers.

"I'm going to look for them," I told Skywarp.

"Stay here," he answered hoarsely. "Starscream's all right, I'd know if he wasn't."

"Everyone else is on patrol. The Autobots will never know the difference between me and the next Seeker. I have to find Trannis."

"Starscream would want you to take someone along."

"Whatever you say," I replied. He managed the shadow of a smile.

"Lugnut," he called, crooking a finger. "Go with him."

I shot a disbelieving look at the hulking green mech who approached.

"It is an honor to protect you, Lord Nova," Lugnut answered worshipfully; his vocalizer had received its final repair a decacycle before. I'd preferred his silence.

Frustrated at being saddled with the slow bomber, I intentionally pushed my engines faster, trying to leave him behind. Tarn flowed past beneath us, vast stretches of war-shattered metal. The canyons of Vos spread far in the distance. Thundercracker would be laid to rest there when his body was brought back.

We neared the border of Tarn and Praxus, Lugnut far behind me, barely within range of my sensors. I transformed to bipedal mode, scanning the ground far below for any sign of the missing Decepticons as I dipped lower.

The attack came from an area scarred and pitted by heavy fire. The sky was suddenly bright with laser fire and I pulled up sharply, firing back in confusion. I couldn't see where it was coming from. I was outnumbered and outgunned; I couldn't last long against an unknown number of mechs.

Lugnut joined the fray late, thanks to my impatience. I sent out a distress call to any Decepticons in the vicinity as explosions blossomed below, courtesy of Lugnut's missiles. After a moment's pause, the Autobots fired back in a renewed flurry. I heard Lugnut grunt as he took damage, but I soon had more pressing matters to worry about as something slammed into my leg. It wasn't an energy blast, rather something solid which melted through my armor and shattered the primary support strut in my calf. Shock made my thrusters stutter to a halt and I had a klik to stare before the pain hit and I began to fall.

Large hands caught me before I struck the ground, cushioning the blow as we struck Cybertron with a jarring crash. I cried out in pain as my useless leg twisted under me at an awkward angle. Lugnut moved surprisingly quickly, leaping away from the crash site with me held close to his broad frame and finding a cave in which to shelter. Carefully, he put me down near the wall, helping me to sit against it. I hissed through my denta as the slight movement sent a bright flare of pain up my leg and thruster.

"Are you all right, my lord?"

"Do I _look_ all right?" I snarled back, angrier at myself than at my well-meaning protector. Lugnut's single optic flickered.

"Your left leg is useless from the knee down, your thrusters have been warped out of shape from overheating, and your wings—"

"I know!" I spat, careful not to be too loud in case the Autobots were nearby. "You think I don't know that I messed up, that I should have been more careful, more aware of my surroundings?" I'd held my glossa for long enough, and now it was all spilling out. "You think I don't realize that I'm screwing things up at every turn? That I don't notice how you all look at me? Expectant at first because you think I'll be just like him, but then disappointed and pitying because I'm nowhere near as good a leader as he was? Well, here's news: I'm not Megatron and I'll never measure up to him, but I'm tired of you all expecting to be him—I'm my own person and I have my own way of doing things! I'm not a clone, not a droid, and—"

Lugnut's heavy, pincered hand pressed against my face, shutting me up. Thwarted mid-rant, I glared at him as he crouched over me.

"I apologize if my interruption was too bold, my Lord," Lugnut said, "but you doubt yourself too much. You unnerve the soldiers because you look like the glorious Lord Megatron. Lord Megatron was the only leader that any of us ever accepted."

"Starscream led the Decepticons between Megatron's reign and mine. You all accepted him as leader."

"We never accepted him."

"And why not?" I challenged. "He's done a fragging lot better than I have at this mess."

"We do not trust him. He undermined our magnificent leader, trying to terminate him and take his place. He worked too hard for too long to get to the top, so we suspect him for giving it so easily to you. He may still be plotting your overthrow or to manipulate you to achieve his own needs." He puffed up in pride. "I will lay down my Spark to protect you, Lord Nova, both from the unworthy, mud-grubbing Autobots and from traitors within our midst as well."

"You say that as if I am a leader worth keeping in command."

"I will show you." He held out a hand. "A databurst may attract the Autobots. I will transfer the data manually."

I extended my arm, clicking open the dataports in my wrist. He plugged himself in and began the data transfer.

The memory-sharing was as intense as it had been when Starscream had shown me Megatron's termination. I was there, watching through Lugnut's optic as a mech I'd only seen in memories, a mech who looked eerily like me, roared in defiance as he led Decepticons into battle.

Megatron.

Lugnut had been _devoted_ to Megatron. I could see now that what looked like fanatical obsession from the outside was actually a Spark-deep belief that Megatron was right. Lugnut had, for all intents and purposes, _loved_ Megatron.

The images shifted, touching briefly on Starscream, tinted with distaste and distrust, watching as the brightly-colored Seeker tried to dethrone the mighty Megatron. They skipped briefly over the tragedy of Megatron's deactivation, passed swiftly through vorns of slavery, and finally settled on a young Seeker.

Nova, who looked so much like Lugnut's beloved Megatron; Nova, who, for all his Autobot upbringing, had found the truth in the Decepticon way, who had cast off that hideous red symbol for Decepticon purple and claimed his rightful place at the head of their army, to lead them from the oppression of slavery, to remind Cybertron that they were Decepticons and they would not be forgotten.

He disconnected, leaving me quietly stunned. In the wake of the disastrous defeat earlier, I'd been so convinced that they would all direct their anger at me that I hadn't even considered the possibility that they might forgive me.

Sounds from outside our little haven made both of us look up. The Autobots were looking for us.

Lugnut began to stand.

"What are you _doing?_"

"I will destroy them before you are discovered," he said. "Remain here."

As if I had much of a choice with my leg in its present state. I stayed where I was as he left our little cave. After a moment I heard voices.

"You! Decepticon! Stop right there. Where's that Seeker who went down with you?"

"Terminated," Lugnut rumbled.

I heard a sound. _The_ sound. The sound of Lugnut's "Punch of Kill Everything," lovingly named by the ground troops, charging up. I shielded my head with my arms and shuttered my optics against the flash to come.

The explosion rattled my audios; debris clattered against my armor and the ground. Smoke drifted past. A few kliks later, Lugnut reappeared in the entrance to our cave.

"Autobots neutralized," he reported, bending his considerable bulk to support me as I struggled upright. "Can you fly?"

I tried to put my weight on my leg and hissed in pain. "Doesn't feel like it."

"I would be honored to carry you, my Lord."

"I don't need to be _carried_," I said hastily. Carried! Like a sparkling! "Just help me."

We got out of the cave, out into the open. I saw the impact crater of Lugnut's explosive punch; there was no sign of the Autobots. As Lugnut prepared to take off, something pinged my sensors.

"I'm picking up a Decepticon energy signature," I told him. "They must be responding to our signal."

The forerunner of the approaching Decepticons was a welcome sight—one of Trannis's mechs. He stumbled up to us (his armor showed signs of damage, partially repaired by his own internal systems, but he was still badly injured), expressing his delight through hand gestures and internal comm. His vocalizer spat sparks as he tried to speak.

"Where's the rest of your unit, soldier?" I asked. He motioned to the jagged canyons behind him.

_/The ground troops are on their way, sir,/ _he commed._ /We got your distress call. Though we could use some help ourselves. The air forces circled southeast towards Kaon./_

"And Trannis?"

"Here, Lord Nova." I turned to see the remainder of Trannis's army staggering into the open. All looked the worse for wear. Trannis himself was in the lead, chin held high despite an obvious patch job on his chest. At his side walked Ramrod, dented, smudged, one arm crushed and mangled. "Reporting back from Praxus, sir."

"What happened?" I asked, trying to take a step and grabbing onto Lugnut for support.

"My field medic can patch you until Kaon," Trannis said, motioning an energon-stained mech forward. I found a place to sit and let the medic go to work as Trannis recounted what had happened.

"We'd just gotten into the city's central sector when they ambushed us. The Autobots came out of the tunnels under the city, cut off our retreat while the rest of them attacked from the front and sides… used our own strategy from Kaon against us. They were ready for our aerial forces as well, with some sort of new weapon. They jammed our communications so we couldn't regroup. The fliers were decimated. It was a massacre. This is all that remains of my army, as far as I know; some others may have escaped as well. Those that did manage to escape, as you can see, sustained damage."

"They knew you were coming," I said regretfully. "They were ready. I should have waited for more information."

"What's done is done," Trannis answered. "We learn from our mistakes."

I absorbed this, flexed my ankle joint when prompted by the medic, and spoke again. "Thundercracker fell?"

"I didn't see it myself, but some of my mechs did. I hope he fell among our own."

I nodded, trying not to picture Thundercracker's frame with his wings stripped off. "It's good that you escaped relatively functional."

"Thanks to this one," Trannis replied in a better temper, reaching out to pull Ramrod closer by a hand on his shoulder. "He saved my life. I didn't know I had a commander in my ranks, but I'm glad of him now. I'm not letting him out of my sight from now on."

I smiled at Ramrod, who managed a tired grin back. "I'm glad you brought him back to us," I said, as close to an expression of relief as I could get before all these other mechs. I stood, testing my leg. It wasn't fully repaired and I didn't trust my thrusters, but at least the pain receptors had been dampened.

"You can give a full debriefing before the rest of the command staff. For now, let's get back to Kaon for repairs."

* * *

Lugnut flew me back to Kaon ahead of the rest, but I sent fliers to cover the returning army in case any bold Autobots tried to finish them off. Starscream grumbled all through my repairs (which he would allow no one else to conduct), but I could still detect sorrow and anxiety in his words and actions. Clearly he, too, was worried about the state of Thundercracker's remains.

We weren't left in suspense for long. The orn after the disastrous battle, Crosswind's trine arrived. Between the three of them they carried Thundercracker's frame. After seeing that his wings remained attached and proud, I left Starscream and Skywarp alone with their wingmate and retreated to the command center, where I buried myself in logistics to take my processor off of other matters.

After the devastating defeat at Praxus, half of the army was in disrepair, we had lost many of our mechs, we were _still_ short on medics, and our energon supply was dwindling.

I slipped out of Kaon without letting Starscream know. I didn't want anyone with me this time.

I came in fast over Khalkon and skidded to a halt in bipedal mode just outside of Steelcrusher's shop, sending a billow of dust into the air. Apis was at the counter when I entered. She took one look at my face and her expression morphed into worry and concern.

"Go upstairs," she whispered. "I'm off shift in 5.3 breems."

I went up the back stairs and into Apis's room, around her projects scattered across the floor, and to the berth. I lay down, covering my face with my arms as I offlined my optics. I lay silent and unmoving. Cycles counted past on my chronometer as I tried to lose myself in thoughtless oblivion.

A gentle hand on my wing summoned me back. I onlined my optics to find Apis sitting on the edge of her berth.

"I heard about Praxus," she whispered. "It was on the Autobot data network—they're acting like it's the end of the war. Like they've won."

"It's not the end," I responded automatically.

"I didn't know whether you were there or not. I was worried about you."

"I wasn't. But Thundercracker, he…" I choked on the words. "We lost many mechs."

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I know it's hard."

I lay still while she petted my helm.

"There was a slave revolt in Gygax." I onlined my optics at her words, sitting up.

"I hadn't heard that."

She nodded. " I've heard reports of rebellions in other Autobot city-states, also. The Autobots are getting nervous. The revolt in Gygax happened this past night-cycle. Even after Praxus, they still wanted to be free. That wouldn't have happened half a centivorn ago, Nova. You've started something."

"I owe it to them to finish it," I answered. "I didn't know anyone was paying attention."

"You've gotten _everyone's_ attention. We get more escaped Decepticons than ever through here. You're all they talk about. Even the Neutrals have changed. I hear everyone talking, all the time. They're interested in what's going on. We all wait for news… me most of all. Every time someone mentions your name, I have to hope that the next words won't be… The Senate is afraid of you, Nova."

"I doubt it. I'm not much of a threat."

"I'm serious. They have a reward out for you, you know. It goes up every orn."

"How much is it now?"

"More than the shop earns in an entire vorn. Enough to make anyone dizzy just thinking about it. They really want you captured or terminated, Nova. This war does funny things to mechs. Everyone's changing."

"The world is changing, Apis," I murmured, brushing my knuckles against her cheek. "And I'm right in the middle of things." I felt her tremble and leaned in, caressing the side of her helm as I bumped our foreheads together. I tried to lighten my tone. "It's all right—"

She shook off my touch. "No, it's _not_ all right!" she cried, grabbing my hand in both of hers. "Every time…" A grinding mechanical sob escaped her vocalizer. "Every time you leave, I worry that you might not come back." The last bit was murmured against the palm of my hand. "I _know_ things are wrong, so wrong that even someone like me, Sparked in the middle of all this corruption and abuse, can see that Cybertron needs change."

She raised her optics to mine, and the strength I found there awed me. "Autobots were not meant to lord over Decepticons, and Decepticons weren't meant to lord over Autobots. We are all equal, and we need someone to step up and remind everyone. We need someone to rise up and lead the Decepticons to freedom, to put all of Cybertron back on the proper path."

She threaded her fingers through mine, never breaking my gaze.

"That person is you, Nova. "You're the one Cybertron needs." Her other hand curled around my head vent, pulling me unresistingly closer. "The one _I_ need," she whispered against my lips.

Her conviction sent a deep warmth curling through my Spark, and I pulled her closer, pressing my lips against hers in a firm kiss. My hands curled around her hips, holding her close, and hers were draped over my shoulders, twined behind my head. We fell in a tangled pile on the floor.

Being with Apis was different than being with Ramrod. With Ramrod it was all heat and hurried, wanting neediness, expressing itself through rough touches and subtle trips to a medic afterwards to bang out the dents.

But where Ramrod was fierce exuberance and denting holds, Apis was soft, soothing touches and easy kisses. Different, but no less arousing, and in no time, between the kisses and the touches to my wings and cockpit, I was ready for more.

So was Apis. Dragging my fingers along the points where her front wheel locked onto her back made her moan and melt atop me, and stroking the back of her neck made her purr. I'd been doing both for some time now, and while she was draped over me with her engine purring away, she was also petting more insistently at my cockpit.

Which gave me a sudden, crazy idea.

"Do you…" I trailed off, stroking her chestplates over her Spark. Apis's optics snapped back to full power and she pulled back to stare down at me.

"You want to Sparkmerge?"

I nodded nervously. "It's all right if you don't want—"

A shy, beautiful smile broke out over her face. "Of course I want to. I didn't think you'd ever ask."

She bent to kiss me again, her chestplates parting. Her Spark flared out through the small crack of her open chamber. In response, my own chestplates started to split.

We both hesitated with our casings cracked only a hair, but as we stared with nervous anticipation at each other's Sparks, the shy chambers opened until our Sparks extended tendrils to reach out and twine around one another. Our bodies followed until only a matter of astroinches separated us and a web of star-bright filaments stretched between us like tiny bridges.

"Ready?" Apis said, her fingers threading through mine and flexing nervously.

I cycled a deep intake and nodded, squeezing her hands and smiling up at her. "Yes."

And we leaned forward and touched our Sparks together.

We arched and cried out, interlaced hands clenching tighter and heads falling back at our first connection. I could _feel_ her—this was just as intense as she remembered. I was nearly overwhelmed by the wonderful, unbearable sensations.

I felt that she'd done this once before, long ago with her best friend when they had been trying to figure out whether their feelings ran deeper than friendship. It hadn't worked out, but she and Shortstop were still best friends, closer to each other than anyone else save perhaps 'Crusher and me.

This was different. There was a _connection_, a feeling that this was _right_, that I was safe and loving and everything she'd ever want or need.

In return I gave her all of me, all the pain of the past several orns, but more than despair and grief. There were other feelings to give: my love for Optimus, Starscream, Ramrod, but especially Apis herself.

No one could last very long once a Sparkmerge began, and it wasn't long before the sheer depth of emotion returned tenfold; that was enough to send us crying out into overload.

* * *

Later, while we lay entwined, Apis sprawled out over my front and toying with my pectoral vents while I indulged my fascination with her handlebars, Apis brought up the topic of the war again.

"Do you have any trouble getting supplies?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" I asked, still partially in the haze of relaxation. I relinquished her handlebars and dragged my fingers down her back. She shivered and mock-scowled at me.

"'M trying t'be serious, slagger. Stoppit." She kicked her legs, but I just grinned up at her. "'nyways, sup'lies. Like, not energon… stuff fer repairs, buildin' materials… y'know, tha' sor'a stuff."

I couldn't quite bring myself to be completely serious yet. "Have I told you recently how adorable your accent is?" I purred against her neck, but she smacked the side of my head and reminded me that she was trying to hold a serious conversation here, thank you very much. She even made sure to erase the accent (it only came out when she was very angry or very _distracted_).

"Occasionally," I admitted. "We don't have many suppliers, and our own factories aren't quite up and running yet, so right now we're dependent on whatever we can take over from the Autobots."

"Thought so," she said, lazily trailing one finger down the slats of one of my head vents. "Well, if you _do_ need supplies, I'm sure you'd find plenty of people around here willing to help. The younger ones especially, who chose no symbol because we believe that there's no need for symbols to divide us, to mark us as different."

"Like you?"

She grinned. "Yes, like me. I'll give you and Starscream and Skywarp free parts anyway, but I'm sure I can convince 'Crusher to spare some shipments every now and then. And I'd bet Percy and Grapple and Hoist would be plenty willing to help out too, not to mention Scrapper and his gang and a whole list of others."

I tilted her face up with my fingers. "You would do that?" I asked. "That shop is all you have. If you don't make enough credits, you can't get all the energon you need, and…"

"I have you, too, you know," she reminded me. "And I would lose the store a thousand times over if it meant keeping you."

I crushed her to me in a hug, hiding my face in the crook of her neck, not sure what I had done to deserve a femme such as this.

* * *

I refused to take anyone with me to the presumably abandoned warehouse in a Tarnish wasteland. I was determined to accomplish this on my own, to restore my faith in myself.

I heaved the door open just enough for me to slip inside. I adjusted my optics to the darkness and looked around. Everything was dusty and long-unused, but a trail led through the dust on the floor. Feeling quite the detective, I followed it through the empty room to another door. This one opened suspiciously easily, without even a creak.

Now cautious, I went into the next dark room, switching my optics to infrared.

The sudden glow was the only warning I received before I was seized from behind, a strong set of arms curling around my wings to pull me off balance in a painful hold. I struggled, kicking backwards, but the five additional heat signatures discouraged me. Four glowing red visors and one set of crimson optics glowed in my direction, in addition to the one holding me.

"Lights," someone commanded, and the lights came up to reveal a group of hefty, faded purple-and-green mechs; they looked perfectly capable of taking me apart piece by piece if they chose. All bore the outline of a Decepticon symbol, but that placed no damper on their hostility.

"What do you want?" the one in the lead asked. Like Soundwave, he wore both a visor and a mask.

"He wants us to join the Decepticons," another answered before I could get a word in.

"No, he wants _Devastator_ to join the Decepticons," a snootier voice added. "There's a difference."

"I'm just—"

"We know who you are. We don' want anythin' to do with it," the first one interrupted me. "There's a reason we didn't go back."

"Tell him, Scrapper. It's nothing but work, work, work with the Decepticons," another grumbled. "Long Haul, do this. Long Haul, do that. I wasn't made just to carry stuff around, you know."

"Technically, you _were_," another of the Constructicons added, very quietly.

"Look—" I wiggled a bit, but the one behind me still held fast. "At least hear me out."

"Let me guess: we're a vital part of the Decepticon cause, you can't do anything without us, you need our help to kick Autobot aft…"

"That's not what I want!"

"I don't like liars," the mech who held me growled, his grip tightening painfully on my wings. "Can't we just toss him in Mixmaster's tank and get rid of him?"

"I think we should listen to him," one of the others suggested.

"You're defective."

"I'm just sayin' it couldn't hurt!"

"We'll listen to 'im. Bonecrusher, put 'im down."

"This is not a democracy," one of the others shot back.

"I know. _I'm_ the leader, _I_ say we hear him out."

"_I'm_ the _head_. I say toss him into Mixmaster."

I gave my input. "For what it's worth, I'm with Scrapper on this one."

A few of them chuckled; the others glared.

"There's the tiebreaker. Let 'im go, Bonecrusher. You can always have some of 'im later if we don't like what 'e has to say."

Bonecrusher reluctantly released me. I flexed my wings, checking that they were undamaged.

"Thank you," I told them first. This wasn't exactly what I'd planned, but I'd have to work with it. "You already know who I am?"

"You're a conversation starter around here. We figured it wouldn't be long before you came to get us. Thought you'd come with backup to drag us back in case things got rough."

"I'm not forcing anyone to join. I thought you would be willing to support the Decepticons after being enslaved by the Autobots." I looked at Scrapper. "I remember you from Iacon."

"And he never let us forget it, either," Long Haul grumbled. "Braggin' all the time about knowing you when you was a little scraplet."

Scrapper cuffed him over the helm as I filed away that tidbit—I had at least one admirer among the Constructicons, and Scavenger also seemed to lean towards me.

"Look," Scrapper said. He shifted uncomfortably. "We're all for the cause. No one's saying we ain't. But, well… we're _Construct_icons. We _build_ stuff. But all Megatron ever told us to do was _destroy_ it. It was all about Devastator."

"I'm not interested in mindless destruction," I told them. " I don't hate the Autobots. I'm not like Megatron. If you know of me, you already know that." They looked at each other doubtfully.

"You sure look like him to me," one said.

I sighed through my vents. "I know."

_Challenge them,_ my intuition told me. Living in this old warehouse probably didn't give the Constructions much to do.

"Here's the situation." I looked earnestly into each visor as I spoke. I hoped I could be certain of them; I didn't want this information spread around. "After the defeat at Praxus, half of my army is in no condition to fight. They're badly injured and we have few qualified medics. If the Autobots attacked now, we would collapse. We are in desperate need of medics to repair and upgrade us. And Kaon is half in ruins. We need builders. Without you, the Decepticons face defeat. We _need_ you." A hesitation. "_I_ need you."

There, everything on the table. For a time the gestalt discussed silently.

"Well!" the snooty one said. "Finally a leader who appreciates _art_."

"So you mean we can do somethin' besides destroying stuff?" Scrapper asked.

"Yes."

"Looks like you win."

"And it's back to work," Long Haul complained. "Work, work, work."

"Your wings ain't angled right," Bonecrusher rumbled at me before rambling away, muttering dire threats.

"You're lucky he didn't take 'em," the other—I assumed from the large cylinder on his back that this was Mixmaster – told me. "Anythin' that ain't perfect, Bonecrusher breaks."

"And _who_ is responsible for that shoddy patch-job on your leg?"

The vicious part of me enjoyed it. "Starscream."

The Constructicon scoffed. "Starscream is a field medic, not a professional. You should be repaired only by the best."

"Enough, Hook, we know you're a genius." Scrapper sighed. "From your report, er, Lord Nova, we better get to work right away."

* * *

In a much better mood, I returned to Kaon. As I entered our airspace, Skywarp appeared next to me. After a cheerful hail, he maintained radio silence despite my repeated inquiries. He merely kept pace to my left.

Finally, Starscream shrieked past, engines screaming as he dipped in to take the lead. He wouldn't respond to my questions, so I resigned myself to silence.

Starscream suddenly veered up and to the right; Skywarp followed and I moved to avoid running into him. After that I took it as a challenge, a way to work off my anxieties and fine-tune some maneuvers. Starscream put us through our paces, but I kept up doggedly even through the trickiest acrobatics.

By the time Starscream finally slowed and angled towards the Tower, my fuel level was low and my thrusters aching. It was a satisfying ache, however.

We transformed and landed near the top level. Skywarp clung to my arm.

"Nova, Nova, you were amazing!"

"Good enough," Starscream commented, but the pride in his voice made my Spark warm. "You'll do."

"What?"

"You'll do," he repeated impatiently. "You kept up, didn't you? _I_ taught you personally, didn't I?"

"What he _means_, Nova, is that he wants you to be our second."

I stared at him, then at Starscream. "What… your trine?"

Trine. Their trine… where Thundercracker had flown with them. I couldn't replace him. I could never be for them what he had been.

"I don't understand," I told them. "I can't be your wingmate. I'm not good enough."

"Are you implying that my teaching wasn't enough?" Starscream snapped.

"You're a wonderful flier," Skywarp added. "You flew with us just now and Starscream was pulling out all the stops."

"That's not what I meant. I… I couldn't…"

Unexpectedly, Skywarp threw his arms around my waist in a quick, tight hug. His expression was unusually serious. Looking into his face, I knew that he still mourned Thundercracker and always would. "Nova… me 'n' Screamer, we fight like cats and dogs…"

"Don't call me that!"

"Like what?"

"Like… like Autobots and Decepticons. TC was the one who balanced us. That's who you are, Nova. You're just like TC. A peacemaker."

_You're just like TC._

He was right. I'd developed into the sort of mech Thundercracker had been. I couldn't hope to replace him, but I could at least do my best to fill the void he had left behind.

"I accept," I said finally. Both faces brightened.

Wingmates. A trine of my own at last… or almost my own.

Without warning, Starscream struck me, sending me to the floor.

"This might get complicated. I am your trineleader and while we fly together you will follow me, is that clear?"

I leapt to my pedes. "You are _my_ Air Commander. I am the leader of the Decepticons. If I choose to fly at your side, if I choose to obey because I know of your experience, but I am your commander and I will not allow you to undermine me. I am your _wingmate_, not your subordinate. I will follow your lead when it suits me, and only then. Is _that_ clear?"

Starscream stared, optics flared in shock. Finally his expression changed to his usual smirk.

"Such a backstrut," he observed slyly. "For all that you go on about not being like Megatron, you have a habit of acting like him."

I flinched, stung, but Starscream hadn't meant it maliciously. He shrugged off my rebuke in his usual fashion. "Now get off your pedestal and go refuel. You look awful."

The three of us left the Tower and headed for our quarters. Skywarp was diverted by Frenzy and Rumble partway there; I hoped that their latest prank wouldn't be against me. Now that Starscream and I were alone, I carefully voiced a thought that had been troubling me.

"When your bondmate… is terminated… does it hurt?"

"You were there," Starscream answered softly. "You saw what happened to Skywarp. It's painful… immensely. When two Sparks bond, they become part of each other. When your bondmate dies you are losing a part of your own Spark."

I remembered feeling that pain once before, though it had not been my own. Axis. When Starscream had shown me his memories…

"You felt that at Axis."

Starscream's wings hiked defensively and he walked faster. I kept up.

"Didn't you? When Megatron—"

"_Nova_."

"You were bonded."

Starscream stopped, clenching his fists.

"I hated Megatron," he hissed. "I _hated_ him. When we—when he—created you, it was… We never meant to bond. It wasn't supposed to happen." He glowered at some imagined Megatron in the air before him. "I'm glad he's been terminated and I don't have to endure it any more."

The intensity of his hatred startled me; still, I couldn't help but wonder if there hadn't been a hint of regret or even bitter sorrow in Starscream's voice.


	22. Treachery Revealed

**22. Treachery Revealed**

* * *

The Autobots seemed content to lick their wounds, so we fortified our borders and focused on reconstruction. I drew on the logistical expertise of Shockwave, who knew well how to manage Kaon and the surrounding Decepticon states during wartime.

The Constructicons proved their worth repairing our soldiers and rebuilding our city. I finally relaxed, now that one attack by the Autobots wouldn't wipe us out. While I wasn't overseeing construction, I learned battleground strategy from Trannis. We spent orbits battling with holographic armies, Trannis constantly changing variables such as terrain and number of combatants, leading me to realize just how much I had yet to learn.

I spent orns in the Archives, immersed in the memory of some battle or another, seeing how Megatron had moved his troops, how Optimus had responded, how it had ended. I tried putting this to practical use in my sessions with Trannis, finding out what worked and what didn't. The Archivist directed me to whatever I was looking for with ease. I asked around about him, but most of those I asked just shrugged.

"He was here before me," Trannis answered. "Ask someone who was here at the beginning. Starscream or Soundwave might know."

But when I asked Starscream, he directed me to Soundwave, and when I asked Soundwave, he was silent for a time.

"Origin: unknown. Archives: predate War."

Soundwave continued his search for the Autobot spy, moving to the officers just below the High Command—a rank which included Skywarp (technically Starscream's lieutenant) and Ramrod (Trannis's lieutenant following the disaster at Praxus)—and declaring them loyal as well.

I continued my training with Ramrod, still losing much of the time. It was frustrating to be defeated again and again, though once as I lay dented and panting on the floor, he commented, "You're definitely improving."

"It feels like my dents are getting deeper."

"That's because I have to hit you harder now."

"Slagger!"

"I'm serious. You're getting better, really." He reached down to help me up. I took his wrist and tugged hard, kicking his ankles from under him at the same time. He toppled with a yelp, landing next to me. "You brat! What was that for?"

"Payback for the dents."

He laughed. "I deserved that."

"If I'm getting better, why can't I win?"

"I know your moves. Trust me, if I were anyone else, you'd have me every time."

I left Ramrod to go see Soundwave about his progress, but he hadn't made much. We knew it was a groundling, but there were no leads.

"Is there any way to narrow the search pattern?" I asked him. "The longer this takes, the more dangerous it gets. This spy can get information to the Autobots. He can do anything as long as he remains undetected."

"Understood. Effort: maximum."

I returned to my quarters to find a fresh supply of energon. I took one of the new cubes and retreated to my berth, fetching a report from Hook and reading through it as I refueled. It had been a long orn, full of logistics and dents, and this report wasn't hugely important, and I felt the barest beginnings of an ache in my processor…

* * *

I onlined sluggishly, systems booting up one by one. Alerts blinked at me from most of my processes; my chronometer read several megacycles later than it should have. My core temperature was unusually high, my plating felt raw and hypersensitive, and my fuel tank was churning. I felt an urgent need to purge my tank, but when I tried to roll over, I discovered that I had been restrained.

I onlined my optics, activating my sensory net. A visored face swam into my grainy visual feed.

"You've finally come out of it." Hook's voice. "Not that I was worried. I can cure anything."

"What happened?" I rasped, vocalizer grating painfully. My fuel intake burned as though I'd swallowed acid.

Starscream, too, appeared above me. "You drank something that disagreed with you. Someone contaminated your energon."

Hook set about releasing the restraints. "You were thrashing enough to hurt yourself," he explained, "so I had no choice but to strap you down. You're recovering, but be careful."

"You were lucky," Starscream commented. "I tested that energon and it would have terminated an Omega Sentinel. But it seems that you, like a certain previous leader, have exceptional resistance to contamination."

"You'd know a lot about that," Hook snorted, ignoring Starscream's scowl.

"As I was _saying_, whoever mixed that knew exactly what he was doing. Lucky that your loverboy found you when he did." I looked around, but Ramrod wasn't present. "That cube and four others were poisoned, but the rest of the stock is clean."

"Who could have done this?" I had to stop and clear out my intakes. "There aren't many mechs with access to my quarters. You, Skywarp…"

"Your friend Ramrod."

I had to leap to his defense. "Soundwave scanned him already. He's no Autobot."

"I'll speak to Soundwave. Hook, can he be moved?"

"I'd prefer to keep my optics on him, but if you must."

"I need to get to the Archives," I said. A sudden idea had come to me.

Hook started to disconnect me from the various machines as Starscream went to the door and opened it.

"You can stop fretting. He's awake."

Ramrod appeared beside me, optics glowing brightly as he helped me to sit up. _/How are you feeling?/_

_/All right, I think./_

"It's possible the would-be assassin will come back to finish the job," Starscream said. "You will escort Nova to the Archives. The Archivist can watch over him there."

Ramrod threw a quick salute. "Yes, sir."

Starscream left for the Command Center. Hook gave us a final admonition before he would allow us to leave.

"Don't strain yourself. Your physical systems were fairly well scrapped; my tune-up will help, but no flying and no fighting, except in an emergency, does that register?"

Ramrod supported me as I tested the strength of my legs. My equilibrium had been disrupted; the hallways swayed around me until Ramrod was the only solid thing left in the world.

"How do you _really_ feel?" he asked as soon as we were out of the door.

"Like slag. My systems are shot. How did you find me? I thought you were going to recharge."

"I was going to. But I just had this feeling that I should go and check on you." I glanced up to see him frowning at the air ahead of us. Then he grinned at me. "I'm your knight in shining armor, remember? I went in there and you were offline, your core temperature way up. That cube was sitting next to you, so I put two and two together."

I was silent. He hesitantly began again. "For a few cycles I thought you would…" Air hissed from his vents. "Primus. I thought you were dead for sure."

"Well, then, it's a good thing you were around, isn't it?"

His arm tightened around my waist. "I'll always be around when you need me, Nova."

We arrived at the Archives without incident.

"Safest place in Kaon," Ramrod said, helping me inside.

"Thank you."

"Here's my tracking signal. Find me if you want. I'll see you later, all right?"

"All right."

After watching him leave, I turned to find the Archivist behind me.

"Are you recovering?" he asked in his soft voice.

_How on Cybertron did he know? _I wondered, but instead I said, "Yes, thank you."

"Is there something I can help you find?" he asked, though his steps were already leading me towards the Hall of Memory.

"You are aware that Soundwave is looking through each mech's processor to find the Autobot spy?"

"I am." He huffed out a half-amused, half-disgusted puff of air. "Soundwave is an amateur. A talented one, true, but his methods are sloppy."

"I was wondering—"

"I thought you would come to me sooner," he said as we entered the Hall of Memory. "When each mech uploads a memory to the Archives, the equipment notes and records any unusual errors or glitches. I can provide you with a list of suspects and save you the trouble of looking through every processor in the army."

"What kinds of errors and glitches?"

"A spy will not load incriminating memories into the Archives. They will be missing, altered, or corrupted. The Archives take note of these errors, or, in fact, any other processor malfunctions." He gave me a stern look. "You ought to recommend that Hook collect a list from me."

He sat me down before a console and linked to it himself. "Those suffering an excessive amount of errors are listed in red. These mechs you must investigate at once, before your life is threatened again."

Designations filled the screen, the list growing at first, then shrinking as the Archivist narrowed the criteria. One, glowing softly red, caught my attention. As though he had read my mind, the Archivist rested a hand on my shoulder.

"There are many explanations," he said softly. "It may not be as it seems. I would also like to examine this further, if only to satisfy ourselves that we have not been deceived."

He brought up further information beneath the burning symbols. It made no sense to me.

"What does this mean?"

"Most unusual. His memory suffers from gaps. I must admit to my suspicions."

"There must be another explanation."

"One can only hope." He leaned nearer to the screen; the blue glow and the red light of our optics battled before us. "Confront him. Find peace of mind, or find a spy. Answer these questions."

"I can't." Numb shock had frozen my Spark. "He is loyal. I know it."

"If you were truly sure, you would not hesitate. Go. Put your doubts to rest."

I stood, shoving back the lingering weakness. "I will."

He stopped me before I reached the door. "Lord Nova, not all is what it seems. Remember that."

* * *

Despite my wobbly limbs, I could walk on my own. I hid all signs of my illness, nodding to those who greeted me, passing by wordlessly on my way to the surface. I held my unease close to my Spark. It all made sense, but it could not be. It had to be a mistake.

I followed the signal out of the base and through the city, tracking him to the outskirts. I ought to have brought backup, but I still could not believe what the evidence had shown.

Zeroing in on the signal, I rounded a corner and squeezed through a broken door half-blocked by rubble. Grey light filtered in through shattered windowpanes, lighting an abandoned room scattered with rusty scraps. My optics fell not on the scraps and windows but on the two mechs just across the room and the blaster aimed straight at me. The first was a green-and-tan groundling with a glowering Autobot sigil on his chest, the one who had the blaster aimed at me. I recognized him from our intelligence network: Highbrow, head of Autobot intel, subordinate to the Senate.

The other mech, kneeling submissively beside the Autobot, head bowed as though to hide himself, was Ramrod.


	23. Torsion

**A/N: **If you haven't been following the Rise Extras, I heartily recommend that you do so. The Extras add another perspective or six to the Rise universe. Extra 11 will help you understand this chapter.

* * *

**23. Torsion**

* * *

It felt as though my Spark had stopped mid-pulse. I barely registered the weapon aimed at me—my full attention was fixed on Ramrod. My sparring partner, my berthmate, my most trusted friend. Ramrod, who hated his former master, merciless when battling Autobots, who came to my aid when I needed him most… a spy.

I stared at the top of his helm; his optics remained on Highbrow's pedes.

_Look at me, slaggit… look at me, show me some sign that this isn't true. Look at me!_

"Look who it is," Highbrow said, forcing me to tear my gaze from Ramrod and focus on the immediate situation. I was on my own and outnumbered. A high-ranking Autobot had me in his sights. Any klik he could terminate me, if his finger placed a bit more pressure on the trigger. I braced for it, wondering how quickly I could dodge and return fire—but there was the question of Ramrod, what I would do with him once I defeated Highbrow…

"We hadn't expected such distinguished company, had we, slave?" Ramrod didn't look up. "The commander of the Decepticons, walking right into my hands."

He didn't shift the blaster, but I felt a flicker of hope. He'd made the same mistake as the Triumvirate: rather than finish it, he chose to gloat. He wouldn't terminate me without warning. I had some time, but I couldn't think of how to get out of this without harming…

"Concerned about him?" Highbrow held his blaster steady with one hand while he patted Ramrod's helm. "You needn't worry. Your friend hasn't betrayed you. He never existed."

_What?_

"The mech you thought you knew was no more than programming, code I wrote and implanted. All these decavorns you've been deceived. Remember how much you told him, sharing all of your concerns, your plans, your weaknesses with him? You have a loose vocalizer in the berth."

Slag, he was right. I'd been able to speak with Ramrod about anything. He was there when I was most vulnerable, in that post-overload haze when my processor was sluggish and my limbs were weak. He had access to me at all times—his position as Trannis's lieutenant allowed him entry to the Command Center, he knew my usual haunts, and he knew the code to enter my quarters. How easy it would have been for him to terminate me, whether by some "accident" while sparring, by quietly disconnecting a vital fuel line while I recharged… or by poisoning my energon.

Then why had he come back to save me? And what did Highbrow mean by "programming?"

"I don't believe you," I said, stalling.

"You could believe that your dear friend betrayed you, if you'd rather. Think of him as a shell… a disguise to allow him to infiltrate the Decepticons. You've never known him as the slave he truly is."

I looked down at Ramrod to see him finally looking back, but the moment our optics met he bowed his head again. Highbrow seemed to find this amusing.

"He is shy, my slave, nothing like the one you knew. But he will obey my every command. Won't you, slave?"

I saw Ramrod shudder.

"Ah, Commander, I'm afraid that our chat must end here. I was sent here to eliminate you, and while I may have failed earlier this orn, you will not be so lucky this time."

His smirk was dark and cruel, his blue optics narrowed in satisfaction. But at the same time, I noticed that he had let his blaster drop ever so slightly; a few astroinches, but it was enough. In the split-klik it took for him to raise his weapon, I'd already begun to move, twisting sideways as he fired and bringing up my own cannons. I stopped at the last moment, canceling the firing sequence almost too late, freezing at the sight of Ramrod standing in front of Highbrow, blocking my shot.

After a few kliks, the Autobot laughed.

"I know your weakness, Nova." His casual use of my designation made me bare my denta in a snarl. "You wouldn't harm him, even to kill me? He is not your friend. He never was. But this interests me. What will you do when you have no choice?

"I have a better idea. Slave, terminate him."

I took a step backwards.

"You won't fight him? Loyalty is not a Decepticon trait. I assure you that he will show no such mercy."

Slowly, jerkily, Ramrod straightened his arm and detached his weapon. I took another step back.

"Ramrod," I tried. "Don't do this."

He met my optics, expression apologetic, before throwing himself at me.

Instinct saved me. I darted to one side, seizing my swords, but he knocked one from my hand. I stumbled backwards from the force of his strike—he wasn't holding back. He came at me again, but I refused to attack in turn.

"Ramrod," I gasped. "You don't have to do this."

"How do you know?" he said quietly. His vicious attack belied his tone. "_My_ designation…" He landed a blow on my helm and my next block was dazed, sloppy. "…is Torsion. I'm not him."

Faster than I could predict, his leg hooked around mine, flinging me to the ground. My other sword skittered away, coming to a halt well out of my reach. A moment later he landed solidly on top of me, his staff pressing down against my delicate throat components. I struggled fruitlessly as Highbrow laughed.

"Excellent, slave. Finish him."

The pressure increased, making alerts flash in my vision. All I could do was grasp at his wrists, trying in vain to push back. He hesitated, optics widening.

"Terminate him, slave. That's an order!"

Ramrod—Torsion—remained still. I could feel his arms shaking. His optics met mine, wide and uncertain, confused and somewhat frightened. It was an expression I'd never seen on his face before.

"_Finish him!_"

One klik, then two, then he gave an agonized, shuddering growl and jerked away from me, spinning around and crossing the gap in three running strides, gaining enough force and momentum to knock Highbrow off his pedes. He shifted his grip on his staff and drove it down towards the Autobot's chest. I heard the crack of armor. Again he struck, the third the strongest of all. His master arched, sparks leaping from his chest in a blaze that threatened to short my optics.

When the nose stopped echoing, Highbrow lay still, chest dark, a pool of energon spreading from beneath him.

Torsion cast his staff aside and fell to his knees beside the graying shell, burying his face in his hands. I approached him cautiously, aware of the danger that remained.

"Ramrod?" I tried. He shook his head without uncovering his face. "…Torsion."

"I don't know," he said, vocalizer crackling. "I don't know any more. I killed my master. I don't know what to do."

"Torsion…"

"You want to talk to _him_. The other me." He looked pitifully up at me. "I'm not like him. He was always able to protect you and all I did was hurt you. I didn't want to hurt you, I never…"

He crawled to my pedes, bowing his head.

"I'll understand if you hate me. I betrayed you. I was weak. I'm nothing like Ramrod." His voice broke, but he carried on. "I would have terminated you. But I couldn't do it. Earlier, when you drank that energon, I couldn't follow through. So I made Ramrod go back to find you. I couldn't do it then and I couldn't do it just now. I was afraid of my master, but some part of Ramrod…"

I knelt with him. "Who are you?" I asked. This mech who had been hidden behind Ramrod was a stranger to me. "How did you get here?"

"I was Sparked a slave," he said. "I never knew freedom like… like he did. My master sent me here, but he implanted false memories of an escape into Ramrod. Ramrod didn't know they let him go. He 'remembered' running from them.

"He doesn't know about me. We were supposed to be completely isolated from each other. I was supposed to appear every so often to report back to my master, but I wasn't supposed to be conscious of what Ramrod did. I wasn't supposed to feel what he felt. But I saw and felt everything, or at least echoes of it. My master was an excellent programmer. He was good at what he did… _too_ good. He programmed Ramrod to hate him and all Autobots. But he hated them so deeply that I did, too. He influenced me. He hated Highbrow, so I grew to hate my master as well.

"I don't think you understand how much you mean to him," he went on. "To me. To all Decepticons. You are everything to us… our leader. You've freed us… even I, a slave, could fight for you."

"You aren't a slave any more," I answered.

"But I am a traitor," he whispered. "It isn't Ramrod… only me. Erase me."

"What?"

"Soundwave can do it. _Erase me._ I'm not the one you want. I don't deserve to exist after betraying you. Erase me, leave only Ramrod. You deserve him."

I stared at him. Erase him from his own body when he'd never had a choice? But he'd _had_ one choice, and he had chosen me. He had chosen the Decepticons… like I had.

"You are part of Ramrod," I said. "And he is part of you. He wouldn't be strong if you weren't. He hated his master because you did, not the other way around. Torsion, you are equal to him. You are a Decepticon. Come back with me."

His optics were wide and amazed. "You can't mean that. I'm not worthy to _look_ at you, Nova… Commander…"

I took his face between my hands and kissed him gently, a gesture familiar to Ramrod and evidently to Torsion, too, judging by the way he leaned into it.

"Come back with me," I repeated.

That was enough for him. He nodded. My processor still spun when I tried to think of it. All this time, Torsion had been just under the surface, but he was nearly a separate entity from Ramrod. How would Ramrod react? How would it feel to not have total control of his own body?

As if on cue, Torsion broached the subject.

"He doesn't know about me," he said. "I can tell him. About this. About me. But he may take it poorly."

"It's best that he knows," I said. "You are the same."

"I'll try."

A klik or two later he started, looking up at me in a mixture of confusion and panic. I knew at once that it was Ramrod, though how I knew, I couldn't define.

"Nova! Primus, Nova, I'm so sorry… I had no idea about any of this… if I'd known, I would have—"

"You couldn't have known," I answered, trying to calm him. "I'm all right. Don't worry."

"How can I not worry? This… this _slave_ inside me tried to kill you!"

"You can't blame him. He's you. He chose freedom, he chose our way."

He carefully gripped my shoulders, bumping his forehead against mine. "It was close, Nova. He could have killed you… _I_ could have killed you."

"Enough. It's over, Ramrod." I sought to distract him. "Help me carry Highbrow back. We could retrieve some useful information from his processor."

* * *

However much I wanted to talk to him, Ramrod kept his distance for decacycles. I let him work it out with Torsion; although I missed him, he had to do it on his own.

Flamewar wanted to execute them both, regardless of which consciousness had been responsible; Soundwave merely gave me an inscrutable look; Lugnut was torn between Torsion's betrayal and Ramrod's obvious loyalty. Trannis and I discussed the matter privately. He spoke highly of Ramrod; his continued faith in my friend was obvious.

Although I wanted time to clear things up with Ramrod, the Autobots would no longer allow it. After our all-too-brief and rudely interrupted rest, they were on the move again, marching boldly into the northern reaches of Polyhex. It wasn't a clever move, but neither had been assaulting Tarn back at the beginning. They seemed unusually sure of themselves. Cautious after the debacle at Praxus, I took care to gather intelligence beforehand. The area was solidly ours, all nooks and underground passages accounted for, no reinforcements lurking nearby.

I remained uneasy, but there was nothing to be done. We could not let the Autobots venture unopposed into our hard-won territory.

The Decepticons flew to meet them.

Our aerial force arrived first, and Starscream led our trine for a look at the Autobots. They were arrayed in typical formation and in hearty, though not astonishing, numbers. Why would they make a move so daring unless they were certain to win?

_/They have to be planning something,/ _I reported back. _/It's not like them./_

I scanned the front ranks, but there was no sign of Optimus. I felt inwardly relieved—at least there was no chance of encountering him during this battle.

_/Or the Senate's being stupid,/ _Starscream commed. _/Don't burn out your processor. Are we here to fight or admire the view?/_

_/I'll go with plan A./_

I signaled the others and we swept down upon them.

The Autobots were foolish not to have adapted wings. It was almost pitiful how easily they were driven back by our fliers alone, and by the time the ground troops arrived we had battled them nearly to the border.

_/Too late,/ _I commed to the groundling generals. _/The party's almost over!/_

_/What, none left for us?/ _Flamewar answered. I could see her division below me.

_/You can pick up the scraps. If they retreat beyond our borders, let them go, and aim to capture the stragglers, not terminate./_

_/How boring,/ _she griped, but I knew she would obey.

Then came a whistling in the sky and all became chaos.

When I stopped tumbling tailfins over nosecone, I transformed to see a huge… _something_ unfolding from its impact crater. It straightened to its full height, turning its massive head this way and that, then lifted an arm.

_/What in the Pit is that?/_ I broadcast. The answer came back almost simultaneously from every one of the High Command, accompanied by the occasional expletive.

"It's an Omega Sentinel," Starscream answered, transforming. "But I never thought they would reactivate one."

"What are our chances of defeating it?"

"_Defeating_ it?" He laughed harshly. "You don't _defeat_ a Sentinel. They're programmed to follow one directive only, and at the moment that directive is obvious."

"Then let's _move_!"

The Decepticons scattered as the Sentinel fired. The flash was so bright that it momentarily blinded me. The shockwave sent my gyros spinning. Only a crater remained where the blast had struck.

_/Soundwave,/ _I commed across the distance. _/Connect me to Shockwave immediately./_

_/Affirmative./_ A klik later Shockwave's frequency connected to mine.

_/What is your command, Lord Nova?/_

I transmitted my visual feed. _/As you can see, we've got a situation. If _they_ did it, then so will we. I know you've got one of these lying around—activate it and send it up here, now./_

_/But that would require immense amounts of energon—/_

_/This thing's between us and Kaon. I'm willing to risk a long, lingering deactivation rather than let this Sentinel crush us right now. Send our Sentinel now. That's an order!/_

I turned my attention back to my Decepticons. The fliers were regrouping, but those on the ground were caught between the Sentinel and the rallying Autobots.

_/Let's lay down some cover,/_ I ordered. _/The ground troops can focus on the Autobot army while the air force holds off the Sentinel. We've got better chances from up here./_

I opened a private line to Starscream. _/Does that monster have a weak point?/_

_/Let's experiment, shall we?/_

_/I bow to your expertise, Air Commander./_

Starscream took command of the aerial units, comming his orders briskly and without panic.

_/Alpha command, Delta command, attack the head. Beta, Gamma, try to destroy those guns. The rest of you, take out the sensor arrays on its back./_

I had no trouble subordinating myself to Starscream in matters of aerial combat. Skywarp and I held close to his tail as he led an attack run on the Sentinel's face. At such close quarters, I saw that it was protected by a thick layer of reinforced glass. Our shots made little impact on its armor, and from what I heard coming across the open channels, only those attacking the sensor arrays were having much luck.

Its head swiveled around and my trine balked simultaneously—the turret now aimed at us looked deadly serious.

_/Scatter!/_ All the fliers in the vicinity obeyed Starscream's order without question.

I cleared the danger zone just in time, but the shockwave caught me and flung me into a spin. I hit the ground with a jarring crash, but nothing seemed seriously damaged. Starscream and Skywarp picked themselves up beside me, levering me upright. A twinge shot up my leg, but this gave me an idea.

"The legs," I said. "Aim for its legs. Perhaps we can knock it off-balance."

"I've got a better idea." _/Aim for the legs. Try to knock it off-balance./_

"Why didn't I think of that?" I quipped before we took off again.

Though the Sentinel was distracted from our ground troops, we now had to contend with its full attention as it swatted at the fliers swarming around it.

_/We don't have to defeat it,/ _I commed on the Decepticon frequency. _/We only have to stop it from annihilating us until our backup arrives./_

_/Commander, ve've gotten the Autobots on the retreat again,/ _Stryka reported.

_/Good work, but I doubt they'll fully retreat as long as this thing is still-/_

_/Watch out!/_

Hands grabbed me and a disconcerting moment later I was on the other side of Sentinel, Starscream and Skywarp alongside me, just as it brought its powerful cannons to bear in a devastating salvo. Frantic damage reports flew in from every division.

_/We can't last much longer./_

_/It's taking us apart down here!/_

_/Shockwave! What's your status?/_

_/Your weapon is en route, my lord./_

_/Just a little while longer,/ _I assured my troops. _/Help is on the way./_

_/Uh, Nova? I think it's here!/_

Skywarp teleported us again just as a second massive Sentinel landed where we'd been hovering.

_/Everyone move—I don't think those things care about collateral damage./_

Starscream and I supported Skywarp—two jumps carrying two other mechs had sapped his strength—as the other fliers headed for our position and the ground troops, Decepticon and Autobot alike, scrambled for cover.

The giants closed on each other. Each blow shook the ground, sending tremendous clashes at our audios. They crushed the battlefield in their duel, along with any mechs unfortunate enough to wind up under their pedes. The sheer devastation awed me.

At first, the two seemed evenly matched. They were equal in stature and strength, but it soon became apparent that Shockwave's had the upper hand. The one fighting for the Autobots had been worn down ever so slightly by my Decepticons. I couldn't tear my optics from them, not even when the flashing of their cannons broke my vision into static.

A tremendous fist thudded into the chestplate that had proven too thick for our blasts to penetrate. The Autobots' Sentinel bent with a groan of stressed metal. A faint moan of dismay came from the Autobot army while a ragged cheer rose from mine.

Like a toppling mountain, the Autobots' Sentinel keeled over and crashed to the ground. The one that remained stood still, huge and menacing, and soon the welcome call came across the comm.

_/The Autobots are retreating. They're pulling out!/_

Starscream patted my shoulder, condescending as ever, but there was genuine affection somewhere beneath. "Another victory."

I surveyed the swath of destruction left in the wake of the battling Sentinels, a vast stretch of shorn and twisted metal. It would be decavorns before anything could be built here. I shuttered my optics, but the desolation remained burned into my processor.

"Right. Victory."


	24. Capture

**A/N: **This chapter corresponds with Rise Extras 13-16.**  
**

* * *

**24. Capture**

* * *

I pored over the reports Shockwave had just given me. "I had no idea that our energon supply was so low."

"The additional shipments from Khalkon were enough to keep us running for vorns, but immense amounts of fuel went to activate the Sentinel. Although I put it back into stasis, the fuel expended simply onlining it for a short time has left us a dangerous shortage."

I frowned at the datapad. I'd known my quick actions during the battle at Polyhex would have later consequences, and I'd had no choice but to temporarily activate the Sentinel, but I hadn't expected the situation to be this dire.

"Aren't there energon mines in Tarn?"

"And processing plants as well, but we can't spare the workers from the army. There's been a small stream of new recruits, but not enough to run the mines and plants at full capacity." He had the delicacy to pause, at least, before suggesting, "We _have_ taken a significant number of Autobot prisoners…"

"Absolutely not. I did not abandon the Autobots only to stoop to their level."

"They would do the same to us," Starscream pointed out. I glared across the table at him.

"I won't allow it."

"Then you sentence us to starvation? And for what? Your precious morals?" the older Seeker scoffed, glaring right back. "_You_ signed up for this. Do you want to see your army break down and rust for the sake of your conscience?"

I stared at him, core temperature rising. I couldn't look at the others. How many of them agreed? Was this what they all thought, and only Starscream had the bearings to say it out loud?

Was he right?

But it wasn't only for my conscience. Under my command, the Decepticons had changed. There was sympathy for us—Apis told me and showed me every time I visited her. That sympathy could prove the determining factor in this war, and I would not turn down the same dark path as the Senate had, as my creators had.

"Use any Decepticon we can spare," I answered, hiding all trace of hurt at Starscream's harsh words. "Use automation. Use _anything_, but get those mines running, even if I have to go down and work the pumps myself."

The rest of our council passed quickly. I remained in the Command Center for a time, slowly recovering from the confrontation. It had been vorns since Starscream and I had last butted heads, and I'd allowed myself to grow accustomed to the rapport between us. This had been unexpected.

Worse, Starscream had made a just point. When it came down to it, could I look the other way from what was essentially slavery if the only alternative was the starvation of my army?

I left the Command Center. The mechs I passed in the halls greeted me or stepped respectfully aside. I knew most of them by designation now. All of them had known me before I'd ever seen them. It was disconcerting to be so widely recognized. And I owed something to all of them—I was responsible for every one.

My pedes led me to the training grounds. It had been a long time since my last good spar, since Ramrod had been staying distant from me. Yet there he was in his usual corner, going through his routine with his usual concentrated ferocity. He didn't see me as I approached, so I watched him silently. Nothing in his appearance suggested the duality inside.

Eventually he noticed me and stopped battling his invisible opponent. There was a moment of silence.

"Hello," I said finally.

"Hello."

"Want to spar?"

"Fine."

He wasn't his usual self, that much was clear. It became especially clear when he landed on his back, defeated.

"You're distracted," I said, extending a hand to help him up. He reached out, then yanked me down with him.

"And you never learn," he said, grinning, but I saw his continued anxiety. "How can I not be distracted?"

"You were never like this before."

"It was easier when I didn't know about him. I feel him all the time now… he's always there. He's always trying to control me."

"He _is_ you," I answered. "You need to come to terms with each other."

"You don't know how it feels," he said, surprisingly vicious, "to know that you aren't supposed to exist. That you aren't meant to control your own body. That at any moment you might be submerged and that everything might be taken away from you."

"If you fought like that on the battlefield, you wouldn't last a cycle. You need to work with Torsion."

"Work with him?" An explosive, bitter laugh burst from him. "He wants my body all to himself… he wants _you_ to himself."

"It isn't like that," I answered, but he didn't look convinced. "May I speak with him?"

"I hate giving up control to him," Ramrod said through his denta. "How can I be sure he won't take over for good?"

"He'll listen to me. Trust me, Ramrod."

For a cycle he fidgeted. Finally, he sighed. His posture shifted subtly, shoulders rising defensively, optics dimming, and I knew that Ramrod had surrendered control to Torsion.

"I don't want to erase him," he said first. "I don't _want_ to control him. It's safer in here. But he doesn't believe me. He thinks…"

"I know," I said, trying to soothe him. "Isn't there anything you can do? If he really feels everything that you feel, and the other way around, shouldn't he already know your intentions?"

"He's blocked me out," Torsion said unhappily. It was eerie—the body, the face, the voice, even their inflections were identical, but he _wasn't_ the same as Ramrod. "He won't listen to me. And there's so little that we have in common."

"That isn't true. Each of you is part of the other."

"The only thing we share is how we feel about…"

He stopped abruptly. I had a feeling I knew what he'd been about to say. That _was_ a problem if rather than realizing that their feelings were the same because they shared the same Spark, each was jealous of the other. My processor ached—this was all very confusing.

"He'll understand. You need to give him time."

"It's been decacycles," he fretted.

"Keep trying. I'll do what I can, but in the end it's between the two of you."

He nodded miserably before, in an instant, Ramrod was back.

"What did he say to you?"

"You didn't hear?"

"I never know what happens when he's in control."

"He wants you to listen to him. Give him a chance."

Ramrod stood up sharply, lifting me too as an afterthought, then transformed and left without another word.

Even more upset now, I retired to my quarters, flopping down onto the berth. Just when things had seemed to be going well, suddenly all was chaos. I desperately wanted to talk to someone, anyone who wouldn't be hostile. Starscream was angry with me, Ramrod was avoiding me, and Apis had never seemed so far away.

When I was a sparkling, I would have talked with Optimus, or even just sat in the same room, absorbing his calm presence. Now all I had were my occasional visits with Apis, but those were few and far between. There was no one I could confide in here outside of Starscream and Ramrod. If Thundercracker were still online, I could have spoken with him, but he was gone.

Recharge was slow in coming. My Spark felt heavy and cold; loneliness consumed me.

* * *

Nothing improved as the decacycles passed. There were skirmishes with the Autobots, ground gained and lost. After a long struggle, we captured Uraya, Tarn's neighbor, another traditionally Decepticon city-state, but though this gained us some soldiers, it did nothing to ease our energon shortage. We began to ration our fuel more carefully, finding as many ways to conserve energy as we could. Ramrod and Torsion both avoided me, and Starscream's attitude remained sour.

There was nothing unusual about the battle at Helex. It was a strategic state to hold, since from there we could advance on the Tagan Heights and the refineries there. The Autobots were proving resilient—they saw the danger of losing the Heights. The aerial troops, the stronger of our number, led the assault, Starscream in command.

After two and a half orbits of fighting, I received word that Autobot reinforcements were on the way from Tyrest.

_/Take beta command and stop them,/ _he ordered me shortly. I balked, as did Skywarp.

_/Hey, Star, maybe we shouldn't split up the trine,/ _my wingmate commed._ /Crosswind can go, can't he?/_

_/Enough. I am the Air Commander, not you./ _Even on internal comm, Starscream sounded spiteful and snappish. He addressed me again. _/I'm sure you can find your own way back./_

Without wasting more words, he took the rest of the fliers to carry on the battle, leaving me behind with beta command. Frustrated at our continued feud, I led them to intercept the reinforcements.

Starscream occupied my thoughts, even in the midst of battle, and that was my mistake.

The fighting was intense, the fire thick in the air. I had to endure the sight and sound of my fliers as they were shot from the sky, the lucky ones landing among our ground troops where they would be taken to a medic, the unlucky ones landing in the middle of the Autobots.

A nearby helicopter called for help; not as agile as a Seeker, he was having difficulty evading the Autobots' shots. I flew to his aid, trying to return fire and force the Autobots to scatter. One remained remarkably cool-headed, however, and a moment later, too fast for me to escape, a missile shrieked at us, striking the helicopter dead on.

The other mech stood no chance. The explosion sent parts spinning in all directions and suddenly my right wing was afire with agony. I lost control, going into a wild spin as I plummeted towards the ground. The last thing I felt was the crushing impact, agony blazing through all of my systems, before everything went dark.

* * *

I onlined feeling restless under my aches. Before I activated my optics, I knew I wouldn't enjoy the view—my arms were pinned above my head, prickling from the stunted energon flow, and I felt a vocal inhibitor clamped onto my face. Someone had done a patch-up on my wounds, as I wasn't spilling energon or sparking anywhere. I could feel weld-lines on my plating where my more serious gashes had been mended. After that crash, I was lucky to be online. But of more concern was the empty numbness I felt from my right wing.

Alarmed, I onlined my optics, turning my head to see that half of my wing was gone, shorn off in a ragged line, the sensors clumsily dampened. For a moment I could only stare in horror. Finally I turned to reassure myself that my left wing remained whole before looking around me. I saw solid walls, a dark ceiling, a door. The room was divided in half by an energy barrier. My half was divided in turn into three smaller cells, but the others were unoccupied.

I tried my comm: no response. Checking my arms, I found to no surprise that my cannons were missing. One sword was gone with my wing, but the other remained, still hidden… not that I could reach it. I attempted to activate my thrusters but found that I could not. They had been disconnected from my neural network.

There was nothing quite as frustrating as being locked out of my own systems. Was this what Starscream and the other Seekers had endured during their long vorns of slavery?

The walls and ceiling were depressingly close and even now seemed to shrink in on me. I felt twitchy, nervous, a gnawing anxiety aching in my Spark. I had never done well in closed spaces, and this one was tiny.

I had been captured. My chronometer told me that seven megacycles had passed since I had offlined. I was alone, unable to contact my allies, unarmed, disabled, and injured. I was also filthy, covered in dried energon and scorch marks. I remembered the explosion of the helicopter—a flying rotor had likely severed my wing—and I remembered the crash, but nothing that had happened afterwards.

There was nothing to do, then, but wait for another mech to appear… that, and plot my escape.

The outer area remained deserted. I locked my joints, trying to work out an escape route. Perhaps I could overpower the guards when they came for me, since the chains were far too strong for me to break free now.

Starscream's words came vividly back to me: _"You have _become_ the Decepticon cause… If you fall, so do we." _The Senate would strike fast and hard at me in any way that they could. If I could not escape, the best I could hope for was martyrdom—though that wasn't the option I would prefer. Although I would give my life for the cause, I was more useful to the Decepticons alive.

Before I could finish formulating my escape plan, my captors revealed themselves. Blue-opticked mechs with the red Autobot symbol on their chestplates came in, deactivating the energy field and entering my cell. The moment they came within range I kicked at them, using the wall as my launching point, but they caught my legs and pinned me. I couldn't help but admire their cold efficiency: first they released one arm and clapped one half of the stasis cuffs onto it, rendering me helpless—one arm was all it took, so there was only so much I could struggle when they released my other arm from the chains.

The Autobots escorted me silently through dark, featureless halls. Once or twice I moved as though to break away, but the stasis cuffs were set to their highest power and the guards treated each twitch as an escape attempt.

We came out into a dimly-lit circular chamber. Numerous mechs with expensive-looking frames sat in a large half-circle, elevated above the level where I stood. Behind these was a small audience. Blue optics stared at me from each mech; unsurprisingly, no Decepticons were in attendance. The guards pushed me forward to stand in the center of the room, where I would be in plain view of everyone present, purplish-red light illuminating me from below. My own face looked back at me from various viewscreens set about the walls for the convenience of anyone who didn't already know me.

A blue glow lit the mech in the center and the quiet murmur of talk died out. I scarcely looked at him; instead, my optics scanned the mechs behind him until I found who I was looking for. Optimus sat near the back, and though his face was hidden beneath his mask, I knew he was frowning. How could he have let this happen? Would he speak for me? Had he already?

"Decepticon Nova," the center mech said. The symbol of the Senate stood out on his chest, gold against rich purple plating. Looking around, I saw that all of the mechs in the front row bore the sigil as well. "I am required to list your charges as follows: assault, murder, destruction of state property…"

I listened in disbelief as the list grew, even the most trivial offenses, as though they'd sat about and thought of every crime they could possibly pin onto me.

"…multiple violations of the slave code…" My energon turned to ice. How could they have charged me under the slave code? I was no slave, I never had been… unless they had decided it the moment I was revealed as a Decepticon.

"…incitement to rebellion, bold and unrecanting defiance of the Axis Decree, and high treason against the Senate."

I stood in numb shock. Starscream had once told me that merely sympathizing with the Decepticons was enough to make a slave of me, but I hadn't been able to comprehend it. I _still_ couldn't. While we were fighting, we became free; we didn't have to worry about the slave code or the Axis Decree. Yet in the optics of the Senate, we were all nothing but rebellious slaves, liable to be recaptured and set back to work at any time. I wouldn't be tried as a prisoner of war. I wouldn't even be tried as a citizen, as a mech. They saw me as a slave.

I snuck a glance at Optimus, but he said nothing. Why was he letting this happen? He was the Prime! Surely he had the power to stop this!

"As you have been unable to produce a single witness on your behalf, we find you guilty on all charges." Not a whisper disturbed the silence. This verdict surprised no one. "Beneath the law, the proper sentence is termination." Again, silence. The Senator's mouthplates were faintly curved in a smirk. I showed no outer reaction. I would make myself untouchable, unreachable… I would never give them the satisfaction of seeing into my Spark.

"Nevertheless, we of the Senate are inclined to extend our most gracious mercy towards you and to grant you our free pardon… provided that you heartily repent your offenses and make humble submission to us. In return for your Spark, you will give service. By lawful right of the Axis Decree, you are now the sole property of the master to whom we gift you. Guards, prepare him for transport. This court is now adjourned."

Throughout the sentence I had waited for someone to speak… anyone. But no one did. I watched Optimus sit in silence. Why didn't he speak? Why didn't he defend me?

The murmuring came back as mechs began to shift and stand. _You call that a trial?_ I thought venomously as the guards came forward to take me away. I glared at the Senator who had sentenced me. He met my gaze, his smirk widening. He seemed to look upon me not as a mech, but as a commodity to be traded, a resource to be used and sucked dry. I didn't care for it. I narrowed my optics at him. Let him see that I would not be intimidated, that I would not break.

The guards dragged me out of the chamber, back into the gray halls. Numb with shock, I no longer struggled.

We halted suddenly and I saw Optimus in front of us. He looked at me, then at one of my guards.

"May I speak with him?"

"I'm sorry, Prime, we're to take him to the shuttle. He's to talk to no one."

"For a moment only."

"It's the Senate's orders," the guard answered. "I'm sorry, Prime…"

Optimus took a step forward, towering over the other mech, blue optics surprisingly icy. "I dragged you out of the ruins of Tyger Pax. Not the Senate."

The guard hesitated. Then he opened an antechamber and signaled the others to remain outside. Prime joined us.

"I can't leave you alone, sir,"

"I understand."

The guard moved to the door to give us space. Feeling betrayed, I looked up at Prime. There were so many things I wanted to say to him, but with the vocal inhibitor, I could not so much as click.

Optimus sighed. Once he would have retracted his mask to speak with me, but with the guard standing there, the mask remained in place.

"You know that I've never supported slavery," he said. "Freedom is the right of all sentient beings. I fought for you, Nova. I told them I didn't approve of this… this extreme course of action. I tried everything."

My optics must have spoken volumes.

"I want the Decepticons free as much as you. But I have an obligation to my mechs. The power of the Prime means next to nothing, Nova. The Senate leads. I cannot go against what is decreed in Cybertronian law."

"Excellently put."

Both of us turned to look at the mech who had just entered. I recognized him as the Senator who had spoken during the mock trial. Close up, he had a beautiful face, aesthetically perfect, but it was marred by his sneer.

"Senator Ratbat," Optimus greeted. His optics were cold, and he didn't bow. "I thought you were returning immediately to Kalis."

"And so I am, once these worthless guards do as I ordered and bring my slave to the shuttle."

"Yours?" Evidently this was news to Prime. Ratbat presented a datapad, which Optimus took.

"Senate directive. This one's mine." His optics swept over me, disdain and interest combined, making me bristle.

"I wasn't informed of this."

"I just informed you," Ratbat replied smoothly. I thought that the datapad would crack under Prime's grip. "Let me say this as respectfully as possible," the Senator added, not sounding respectful at all. "The leader of the Decepticons was your ward, and the Senate has decided it would be unwise to seek your judgment in this matter. Now get him to the shuttle," he snapped at the guards. I looked at Optimus's face, his burning optics, and hope surged within me. Optimus wouldn't let this happen. He couldn't…

But Prime only handed the datapad back to Ratbat, silent, and the guards took me from the room. They marched me outside for a brief moment and I drank in the light, stretching my wings and wishing I had control of my thrusters.

Ratbat's personal guards took me from the others—I could tell they served the Senator because each bore a small bronze Senate insignia on his armor. We entered the sleek shuttle and they tossed me in the brig, settling down to watch over me.

It took four megacycles to reach our destination—Kalis, Prime had said. The guards came for me and I gave them a fight. Improbable plans for escape chased themselves around and around in my processor: I could have overpowered the guards and taken control of the shuttle; I could have kidnapped the Senator; I could have willed my thrusters back to operation and flown off.

I could have, if I'd been Starscream. I could have, if I'd been Megatron.

I managed to pin a guard with my shoulder, but the next moment something jabbed into my midsection and hot pain lanced through me, electrifying my circuitry and sending me to the floor. The second guard grinned, twirling his shockstick before striking me over the helm with it. I lost all higher functions for a moment, regaining consciousness three kliks later to a host of warnings and alerts flashing red at me. A guard heaved me to my pedes. Although I was too dizzy to fight back, the guard with the shockstick laughed and rammed it into my side again. My vocalizer spat static and I coughed up energon, my joints seizing and jerking.

"Learn your place now," the aggressor laughed, his handsome face smiling and his blue optics bright. "It will save us some work later."

I glared at him through smoldering, flickering optics, but did nothing else. I wouldn't play his game.

I took my first look at my new residence as they dragged me out of the shuttle. It was a huge complex, a brilliant golden tower set apart from the rest of the city. There were mechs with the insignia of the Senate everywhere, mostly guards. I saw slaves, too, miserable creatures barely resembling mechs anymore. The occasional dull red optic flickered my way, but if they looked up for more than a klik, a guard was on them, adding a new scar with a shockstick or energon lance.

They hurried me inside before the tantalizing blue sky could give me any ideas. Inside was just as opulent as out. The Senator clearly loved his wealth—and to show it off. I sneered in disgust as we passed through ostentatious halls. Finally we entered a smaller hall, where Ratbat waited. He smiled as we came in. It didn't reach his yellow optics.

"Ah, here he is."

He paced around me, inspecting every astroinch of my frame. I glared defiantly back.

"Well, you'll make an excellent trophy," he gloated, signaling one of the guards to remove the inhibitor, freeing my mouth.

He was baiting me, but I took it anyway.

"I'm no trophy," I hissed, putting on my best Starscream. "That would imply you've done something to deserve one. What have you done but betray your own?"

"This coming from a Decepticon? You've got bearings." He smirked. "You'll be a difficult one to break… but I've never failed yet."

Ratbat unshuttered the wide window, presenting a clear view of the mechs laboring below. "All mine," he said proudly. "Each broken to my will. No delusions of grandeur, no hope for freedom. They don't remember what 'freedom' is. That is, until you started to raise such a fuss. They've gotten restless at the news of your little revolt."

He turned to stare hungrily at me. "They've been hearing all about you: their hero, their would-be savior. And now you belong to me. Now they will see you as a slave. They will see you kneeling at my pedes, following my commands without resistance. Broken."

"I don't take orders from anyone," I sneered. "You have no right—"

"I have every right," he snarled back, yellow optics narrowing. "You are my property, and I will do with you as I will."

"I belong to no one, Autoscum—you're _lower_ than the Autobots, nothing but a pretender, a mud-crawling credit-grubber."

The ones holding me tightened their grip as Ratbat's face lost all its beauty in an ugly scowl. His voice dripping in contempt, he growled, "I would strike you for your insolence, but I find myself unwilling to sully my hand."

"Maybe I don't want your hand sullying my faceplates. But that's your style, isn't it: sitting back and letting others do the dirty work while you reap the profits? Poor little Cassetticon, you're not fit to lick my thrusters."

The Senator's optics flashed with rage and he jerked his head stiffly at his minions. They dragged me to the side of the chamber, where I saw an ugly slab of metal. I'd seen others like it in Autobot dwellings when I'd been younger, before I had joined the Decepticons. I redoubled my struggles, but both mechs were larger and stronger than I. My cockpit cracked as they bent me over it, fastening me securely. I snarled at the indignity, tugging at the chains.

Ratbat approached from behind. "You will learn _obedience_," he hissed. I heard the distinct buzzing snap of an electrowhip as he cracked it against the floor. "I will teach you to respect me. Or, if you will not, I will teach you to fear me!"

The whip shrieked through the air and struck the backs of my wings. Fire blazed through my systems, searing pain making me arch. My mouth opened, but my vocalizer—thankfully—emitted no sound. The sensors of my wings amplified the sensation. The only small mercy was that my right wing was still deadened, one small island of numbness amid the blazing pain. The whip cracked again. I tried to think of receiving my Decepticon sigils; surely that pain had been worse… hadn't it…? I gritted my denta—I would not cry out. I would not give Ratbat the satisfaction of a scream. That was a victory I _would not_ give him. I clenched my fists around the chains that held me, my grip so tight that my hands trembled with the strain.

By the time Ratbat was through with me, I shook all over. I hadn't made a sound. My wings burned and tingled painfully, warnings flashing across my optics. I gulped in air through my vents to cool my overheating systems as I pried my fingers from the chains.

The hum of the electrowhip stopped. Cool fingers touched my wings, brushing over inflamed sensors, and I shuddered. That deceptively gentle touch was more painful than the beating.

"There," Ratbat purred, silky smooth on my audios. "I think you've had enough for now, hmm?"

I bared my denta at him, hoping he could see. I would show him that I wouldn't break, no matter what he did to me. "Slag off, bastard," I growled, borrowing a choice term from Skywarp. He laughed.

"I've always enjoyed a challenge," he said. "Your resilience is amusing, but I doubt it will last long. You'll mind me soon enough."


	25. Slave

**A/N: Might I point out that the rating has gone up to "M." You will run across things that aren't fun to read here**, and believe me, it wasn't fun to write. Bear with me, please. It'll turn out all right eventually.

* * *

**25. Slave**

* * *

The orn's unpleasant surprises were far from over. Ratbat's guards escorted – more like paraded – me through the halls, kicking the occasional slave out of the way. I tried to make optic contact with the Decepticons, but none of them would meet my gaze. Were they all so terrified of Ratbat? What had he done to them to make them so docile?

And what would he do to me, attempting to make me the same?

The rooms they led me to surprised me. I'd expected some tiny dungeon, but these were lavish and spacious. A knot of suspicion coiled in my fuel tank.

"These aren't mine," I guessed aloud. Ratbat turned, an ugly smile causing his optics to narrow.

"That's right," he answered. "They're mine. In there," he ordered, and the guards took me through the last door. I dug in my turbines at the unwelcome sight of the large, expensive-looking berth.

"Not a chance in the Pit!" I hissed. "If you think you can make a pleasurebot of me then you're—"

"—absolutely correct," Ratbat finished. "You seem to retain the notion that you have a choice in the matter. That should make this entertaining." He snapped his fingers at the guards. "Secure him, then leave us."

I struggled enough for the stasis cuffs to have shocked me dizzy by the time they forced me onto the berth, pinning my arms above my head using a mechanism already in place on the berth. I didn't know which idea was worse, that Ratbat had installed this specifically for me, or that he'd committed such atrocities before.

Their task completed, the other Autobots left the room, leaving me alone with the Senator.

"If you so much as touch me I'll—!"

"You'll what?" Ratbat asked coolly, approaching. I pulled my knees up towards my chest. "Glare at me? I think we are both aware that your threats are empty. As you can see, slave, you are entirely helpless."

He reached out towards my face and I bit him. My reward was a fresh shock from the cuffs and an angry growl. Ratbat jerked his fingers free and backhanded me across the face, making my helm snap to the side.

"Insolent slave," he hissed, his hands gripping my knees and shoving them apart. I thrashed, trying to dislodge him, but the pain from the stasis cuffs limited my actions, particularly when Ratbat reached up to adjust the setting. The slightest twitch prompted a temporary shutdown of my motor functions.

Only when I was immobilized did Ratbat's snarl relax back into a self-assured smirk. "There," he purred. "That's better. It's much easier when you cooperate. Perhaps you may even find this enjoyable."

He leaned uncomfortably close. "You see, slave, while yours are empty threats, I am perfectly capable of carrying mine out." His fingers, designed for holding a stylus or tapping keys and as such capable of delicate touch, walked up my thighs. I stiffened, unable to move away as he traced the seams of my panel, sending little twinges darting around my sensory network.

But I would not open to him, no matter what he did to me. Not even when his mouthplates brushed my neck cables, making me shudder in disgust.

He, perhaps deliberately, misinterpreted it. "I said that you would enjoy it," Ratbat murmured, a nasty smirk pressed against my jaw. "It gets better. Now, why don't you open your panel for me?"

"No."

His smirk dropped a touch. _Good,_ I thought. His touch grew more firm. "Open it."

"No," I answered again. His optics blazed and I would have jerked if I could have as his touch became rough.

"You might have been able to take pleasure in this, slave," he snarled. "Instead, I'm afraid that you may find it somewhat painful."

Ratbat's finger scraped at the sensitive area and I gritted my denta. There was a sudden sharp pain and my panel slid back of its own accord.

"Did you think I don't know my way around a Seeker?" I heard the release of his own panel and I began to protest, opening my mouth to tell him to stop, before his interface cables snapped into me and the shock made me jerk before the cuffs immobilized me again.

"You will learn your place," Ratbat murmured, seizing my damaged wing in one hand. I barely restrained a yelp; the sensor dampener had begun to wear off. "And it is here, beneath me. Soon you will no longer fight it." An energy pulse surged up into me, making me jerk again. He roughly scraped my injured wing; it took all of my willpower not to cry out.

_It's just like the beating,_ I told myself. _He can't reach me like this. I won't satisfy him by shouting!_

Another pulse set me to trembling. It had been decacycles since Ramrod and I had done this, and it had never been like this with him, never so unwanted, so physically painful as the Senator's hand left a dent in my wing.

"Soon you will beg for it," Ratbat finished, and then his hands were on my canopy, searching around the seams for the manual release as he had done with my panel. I tried to throw him off, but the cuffs and another penetrating energy pulse thwarted me. My ports felt hot, the excess energy from the one-way connection having no escape route.

Ratbat purred triumphantly as he managed to part my canopy. He leaned down to probe at the seam of my chestplates with his glossa and I bit down hard on my own. I knew what he was after, and I would _not_ let him have it…!

But the constant energy from his cables and his ministrations on my chestplates left my processor reeling. The first shield layer parted, then the second, and the glow of my Spark appeared reflected in his faceplates.

"No!" I gasped, but my chestplates wouldn't respond to my commands. "Stop!"

"Ahh, my slave, you have no say in the matter."

Ratbat coaxed my transparent Spark casing open, his touch deceptively gentle, running a finger along the inside. I shuddered, locking my jaw… no more sound, no matter what he did to me…

He moved forward, chestplates shifting and parting, and before I could do anything, anything at all, he merged his Spark with mine.

Heat roared through me, his Spark blazing and hungry, causing all of my systems to seize. The double assault sent my sensory network into giddy fireworks. Despite my best efforts, a ragged moan tore from my vocalizer.

"So you _can_ feel," Ratbat murmured into my audios. "I knew you would give in soon enough. Now, slave… overload for me!"

I resisted, trying to detach myself, but he was pressed too firmly against me, and his Spark pulsed around mine, his cords sent up energy, until it overtook me in a blaze of sparks and static.

The sensory overload left me limp and exhausted. Ratbat disconnected from me almost immediately, his chestplates and panel clicking shut at once. My ports ached as I closed my armor. I'd hoped that the overload might have shorted out the cuffs, but I found to my dismay that I remained immobilized.

"It could have been better," Ratbat said, lounging atop me. "But you will learn. Now that you know my expectations… you will learn."

"You're despicable," I choked out.

"I am your master." I sneered at him. "And you will obey me. You will stay here each night and warm my berth. Each orn I will have… plans for you."

"You'll be sorely disappointed," I answered.

Ratbat's smile sent disgust crawling up and down my backstrut.

"We will see."

And then, to all appearances, the Senator went into recharge.

I lay stock-still beside him, wishing more than anything to be anywhere else. _I'll escape,_ I swore to myself. _I'll get out of here… they'll come for me. They'll find me, they'll come to save me…_

Until then, I could endure.

* * *

I was roughly shaken awake before my recharge cycle had ended. Processor fuzzy, only half-awake, I growled, instinctively trying to strike out, but the cuffs still immobilized me. My arms prickled from restricted energon flow.

"Stir your struts, slave."

I onlined my optics to glare at Ratbat. "I might if you would remove the _stasis cuffs_."

He smiled. "Perhaps."

Reaching up, he adjusted the setting on the cuffs and unhooked them from the berth. I moved carefully to avoid more painful shocks.

"I'll not have a slave of mine looking as though he crawled out of a slagheap… not yet, at least. Guard."

The door hissed open, revealing another Autobot.

"Take this slave through the washracks, then bring him to my office."

The guard shoved me bodily out, taking me to what, from their size and flamboyance, could only be Ratbat's private washracks. I felt slightly better with the grit of battle off of me, but the scrapes in the paint on my thighs and codpiece stood out even more when clean.

Once I was dry, he took me by the elbow and marched me through the halls again, keeping me off-balance the entire way. Autobots who hadn't seen me the orn before now stopped to stare and whisper.

The guard pushed me through a door and it closed behind me. I glanced around, sneering –Ratbat's office was an extension of the gaudy display of wealth that comprised the rest of the facility. Ratbat himself sat behind a golden desk, a cube of energon (no doubt the finest that credits could buy) at the corner, looking bored as he read a datapad. He set it aside at my entry, smirking.

"Ah, much better." He stood. "Come closer, slave."

I remained stubbornly in place. The Senator laughed coldly.

"Your stubbornness fails to impress me. You'll soon find, slave, that your existence here will be much easier if you obey. Until then, expect nothing but painful reminders of who is in charge."

He drew closer. "That looks like it hurts."

He meant my wing, or what was left of it. It _did_ hurt, the exposed wiring and circuitry practically throbbing with neglect. I glared at him, not bothering to reply. Ratbat stalked around me and I followed him with my optics until he was out of sight. I could still feel him, despite the sorry state of my sensory network.

A moment later, cold hands touched my wings, brushing across the surface, paying special attention to where the plating had been sheared off, fingers stroking across half-self-repaired wiring. His energy field encroached on mine, swirling smugly about him.

"We can't have that," he murmured into my audio.

I shivered and jerked away, ignoring the shock from the cuffs. "Don't touch me," I hissed. "Don't come near me!"

He only laughed. I fumed. It had been many vorns since anybot had outright _laughed _at me.

"Unfortunately, slave, you have no choice in the matter. Come."

Ratbat gripped my wingtip and twisted, jerking me towards his desk and shoving me down next to it. I hissed and spat, but the stasis cuffs kept me from struggling upright. How dare he set me at his feet, kneeling like a pet, like a… like a slave?!

"What makes them follow you?" he hissed, still pinching my wingtip, tilting my chin up with his other hand. "You're nothing special, not like Megatron. And yet, they follow you. They admire you… their hero. Their beloved leader.

"But do they know you as well as they think?" he purred, optics glimmering with malicious glee. "After all, they didn't see you writhing in overload for me…"

"Mute it!" I snarled, trying to shoot to my landing struts and failing.

"It's a weakness of yours," Ratbat added silkily. "After all, you fell for Highbrow's prize spybot after he got you into the berth."

He wanted an explosion, he wanted my anger… but words were only words. He could not hurt me this way. I could contain myself, I could be serene, like Optimus, let Ratbat's voice slide off me like the wind. No matter how sensitive a subject he pursued, no matter how close to my Spark his comments sliced…

"You become weak towards those close to you. What better way for 'Ramrod' to get information? Did you think that he actually cared for you? A jumble of programmed reactions can feel nothing." His yellow optics narrowed slyly. "What would you say if I told you that your 'friend' still operates as a spy for the Autobots?"

"I would not believe you," I answered immediately.

"Oh?"

"He terminated Highbrow."

"An acceptable loss to regain your trust."

"Why would you tell me this if it was the truth?" I forced out. He was lying, he had to be.

Ratbat leaned forward. "Because you can do nothing about it," he purred. "Because now you must stay here, suffering with the knowledge that a well-placed and completely trusted spybot is passing us information."

"You're lying."

"I'll leave that for you to decide," the Senator answered, then picked up a datapad and resumed his work without sparing me another glance.

I stewed on my knees. He'd been lying. Surely he'd been lying. Torsion had told me everything… we'd freed him, he'd spilled his Spark to me. I trusted him. I trusted both of him…

_But what if he's not lying? _a nasty little voice whispered deep in my processor. _What if Torsion is still working for them?_

No. I trusted Ramrod and Torsion.

_But you don't really _know_… you haven't merged your Spark with theirs. How can you be sure where their allegiance lies?_

I wanted to trust them… but Ratbat's words had put doubt in my Spark.

If only I could escape! I focused on the stasis cuffs. Without these, I could run… I might stand a chance without these slagging restraints! The problem was getting them off. How was I to do it, or trick someone else into removing them?

The chance came sooner than I'd anticipated. Ratbat drew the cube of energon towards him, took a sip, then set it back down.

"Guard," he called. Evidently the Senator's Autobots waited with audios tuned on his every whim, for he'd scarcely finished the syllable before the door opened and the same guard who had seen me through the washracks entered, saluting. "Remove the stasis cuffs. You look hungry, slave."

I gave no response, but my Spark began to pulse faster. The cuffs would be removed. With my hands free I could draw my remaining sword, still hidden on the bottom edge of my wing… perhaps I could even dispatch the Senator on my way back to freedom.

Once my hands were free, I tensed subtly, cables pulling taut in preparation. I met Ratbat's optics steadily as I lifted the cube as though to drink – ready to move, ready to act…

At the last moment, I jerked my arms, splashing the energon into Ratbat's faceplates. In the same movement my sword fell into my hand, my fingers curling around the hilt, moving to swing the blade in a wide arc, ready to slice the vile mech in two.

The shot took me in the shoulder. The force of it sent me to the ground with a clang, sword spinning out of my reach, even had I been in any condition to use it. The guard kicked me viciously in the side, blaster aimed at my helm.

"Filthy 'con!"

He snapped the cuffs back on and hauled me upright, ignoring the energon spilling from my shoulder. Ratbat's optics glowed almost orange as he picked up my fallen sword and examined it.

"Interesting." He rounded on me again and spat, "You'll wish you'd taken that energon, _slave_. It's the last you'll taste for a long while."

* * *

I sat with my knees pulled up to my chest, arms wrapped around my knees, and tried not to move. Every time I shifted, my wings scraped against the walls. I kept my optics offline to save energy; there was nothing to see but the darkness of this cramped, thick-walled cell. Nausea roiled in my fuel tank due to the enclosed space, but I kept it down with iron control… I needed every drop of energon that I had.

They'd forced me in here after my ill-fated escape attempt. At first I'd been relieved that I hadn't been beaten, but after a time I realized that this was worse. The only nonvital I'd kept online was my chronometer, ticking away one klik at a time in the lower corner of my optic field, which informed me that I'd been here for four orns now. My processor was sluggish and I knew that even if I'd had room, I couldn't have moved. All of my systems had shut down one by one at the lack of sufficient energy, until I ran on Spark and processor alone.

Every so often a slot in the door would open, letting in a stream of harsh light. If I was awake, it would simply close again. If I had fallen into recharge, they would rouse me with loud crashes and shouts, completely throwing off my recharge schedule and leaving my nerves shattered.

_If I die_, I thought grimly, ignoring pangs of hunger and claustrophobia, _at least I won't be a slave any longer._

But termination was a relief that Ratbat would not grant me. Just when I felt ready to slide into the choking darkness of stasis lock, the door opened and rough hands dragged me forward, my wingtips dragging sparks from the metal of the walls. Something clacked against my mouthplates and I tasted fresh energon. Too weak to move, all I could do was drink. The amount was barely sufficient to keep me online.

"That's enough," Senator Ratbat's voice snapped. The flow of precious energon was cut off. I onlined my optics to see one of the guards holding a mostly-empty cube and a pair of stasis cuffs. As the Autobot moved to put them on, Ratbat held up his hand. "Those won't be necessary."

He was right, although I wished he weren't. I scarcely had the energy to lift my arm, let alone attack anyone.

"Now, slave," he went on, looking down at me. I met his gaze coolly. "I hope you've gotten some idea of the way we run things here. This is not Iacon, where slaves are easily forgiven their transgressions. Nor, you'll notice, is it Kaon, where they walk about under the illusion of freedom. Even the highest among Decepticons…" He flashed his denta in a cruel smirk. "…is worth no more than an Empty. _You_, my slave, have forgotten what you are."

He leaned close, almost near enough that I felt the heat of his optics.

"And Optimus Prime isn't here to protect you any more."

* * *

Ratbat ensured that I was kept occupied. The Autobots never left me alone; Ratbat or his guards oversaw every moment of my orn. The Senator assigned me small tasks, such as fetching datapads or bringing energon, things I would have done for Optimus without being asked. Here, however, they drove me half insane. Ratbat personally monitored my fuel intake. He alone gave me energon, he alone controlled how much I received and when.

I took my revenge in any way I could, doing my utmost to make things difficult, but my punishments were always severe. I learned to hold my glossa. It would be easier to escape if I weren't locked in the dark cell or chained to the lashrack, and I needed energon if I was to get anywhere.

The chores were relatively easy to bear, but it was harder to bend my pride. The loud comments between the guards, the snickering, all made me hike up my wings. Ratbat's possessive touch, his ironic smile, sometimes made me physically ill, nearly as much as the swamping sky-hunger. Even if I grudgingly submitted to the small tasks, I never went willingly to the Senator's berth. He had to fight for it every time, but have it he did, even if my Spark only showed him disgust and hatred.

Each orn I waited for Starscream to come bursting in at the head of the army and for Ramrod _not a traitor _to find me and help me tear Ratbat's head from his shoulders. Each orn I would concentrate on my comm, willing it to work.

_/Starscream, do you copy? Skywarp? Come in, Soundwave… Is anyone there? Can you hear me?/_

But I was no Starscream, to repair my own comm. Some nights I lay aching and used, trying to concentrate my entire being on Apis.

_Apis… hear me, Apis, feel my Spark…!_

But we were not bondmates, so we did not have that subconscious connection between Sparks. _Good_. I would never have forgiven myself if she had been forced to feel my pain, unable to help me.

I became intimately familiar with the lashrack, the little angles and contours, the indelible stains, the chips and dents, the sound the chains made when I yanked at them, the scrape of my armor and my now hopelessly cracked cockpit against the metal, the cold surface I panted against as I cooled down. I endured unspeakable pain here; I learned my most agonizing lessons – the ones that I needed the most. Here I learned anguish, humiliation, despair, all the worst kinds of pain a Spark could suffer, and I emerged scarred but strengthened.

Chained facedown I weathered the worst of Ratbat's violent fury, the vicious crackle-buzz of the electrowhip boring into my audios and the burning slash of each strike making me jerk and clamp my mouth shut to close in the screams that wanted to escape. I shuttered my optics and counted the strokes. Soon I would pay him back. I would make him beg for termination, and I would gladly oblige.

Chained faceup was worse… much worse. Here he was at his most sadistic, the peak of his cruelty, his processor unclouded by blind rage, cool and calculating. Here I suffered the most agonizing, the most horrendous acts that a Cybertronian can endure. Here Ratbat forced himself on me in plain view of anyone who walked past, Autobot or Decepticon, pried open my chestplates to thrust his Spark into mine, corrupting my very essence. Here Ratbat won his only victories: broken, unwilling cries only half-aborted, wrenching from my vocalizer without my consent.

When it was at its worst, when I thought that I would break, when I thought that my will would shatter, I shuttered my optics and thought of other things. Little things: the light glittering on Iacon's spires, Kaon rebuilt, rust sticks, the wind, sparring, high-grade, a decent recharge, washracks, clear skies, datapads. More substantial things: flight, Optimus's smile, Thundercracker, Skywarp, and Starscream – his smirks and his moods, his pride and his disguised affection.

But most of all, I thought of Ramrod, Torsion, his grin, the way my body ached pleasantly after an enthusiastic session of sparring or interfacing or both, and of Apis… her optics, her handlebars, her accent, her voice, her smile. I would return to that. I would return to _them_.

Ratbat must have noticed my failure to respond to the worst beatings. During one particularly rough session involving a shockstick and my neck cables, he paused, leaving me to focus my staticky optics.

"Where are you, slave?" he asked, deceptively gentle as his fingers stroked my face. "With your treacherous friend Ramrod? Or perhaps someone else?"

That brought me out of my half-trance. I locked my jaw in sudden determination.

This monster would never get his hands on Apis.

"I need your full attention, slave," Ratbat murmured. "I can't have you flitting off to dreamland every time I try to teach you a lesson. I'll simply have to anchor you to the here and now, won't I?"

And he had the guards undo my chains and take me upstairs. I should have known that this small mercy would lead to something more sinister.

* * *

The next orn, the guards took me back to the small audience chamber where the lashrack was kept. For the first time in a long while, I wore stasis cuffs.

_What new game has he thought up this time? _I wondered.

Ratbat stood in the hall already, accompanied by a small blue-plated Autobot. I eyed them both warily as the guards led me closer, pushing me to my knees before them. Ratbat looked far more cheerful than was safe.

"There you are. Guards, you may leave us. I doubt he'll be in any condition to try anything when we're through with him."

Even more disturbed now, I waited as the guards retreated.

"This is Firewall, with whom you will share no great or lasting acquaintance, but important nevertheless." He turned to the small, unobtrusive mech. "You have your orders."

"Need specifics." Firewall sounded like he had a bug in his vocalizer, giving it an unpleasant buzz. "How much will I leave?"

"Use your discretion, but I want him to remember who he was… it makes the comparison so much more striking." I started, optics widening. Who _was_ this mech, and what was he going to do to me? Ratbat's smirk was not reassuring. "Besides that, I don't care whether or not he knows what planets Sentinel Prime visited during the Golden Age."

"Understood."

Was I imagining it, or did Firewall look eager? If it weren't for the stasis cuffs, I would have tried to run.

The small mech circled around me. I tried to turn my head to look at him, but one of his slim hands gripped my helm – he was stronger than he appeared. A finger probed at the port on the back of my neck before a cable locked into place. I shuddered at the sensation of another presence in my processor, slithering through the cracks in my security to access my memory. I balked, throwing up my defenses, but this only delayed him for a moment. My optics offlined as I started to overheat, my processor objecting to the second consciousness, and my Spark flared in a sudden wash of pity and understanding for Torsion – he must have felt this way every time he met with Highbrow.

Alerts blinked urgently at me, emergency security measures failing, and then the pain began.

Blocks formed, coding building up around my memory files. The significance of Firewall's designation hit me and I raced to defend myself, but he seemed to know my processor as well as I did. I knew now what he was after and I struggled to hold onto my most precious memories… Optimus, Apis… but he was an expert. I could protect files from deletion, but he didn't aim for that. He only blocked, suppressed. I trembled but didn't fall, the hand on my helm keeping me upright. The pain grew to a burn.

As suddenly as it had come, the invading presence was gone, taking with it the supporting hand, and I toppled forward, vents roaring as my systems struggled to cool.

"Designation?" the buzzing vocalizer queried. I briefly contemplated pretending, seeing whether Ratbat would be angry with the other Autobot, but decided against it.

"Nova." My vocalizer grated, spitting static, and I winced. I didn't remember screaming, but perhaps the strain had been enough to damage my vocal processors.

"As ordered," Firewall reported, then fell silent. I could see Ratbat's pedes before me.

"Tch… evidently I underestimated the physical strain. Guards!"

Too weak to struggle, I put up no resistance as the Autobots lifted me by the elbows. I noticed that my chronometer had frozen… even my processor was no longer my own.

I focused inward. I could feel the firewalls, the quarantined memory files. Most of my education had been left intact, as well as a general picture of the past two centivorns, but there were gaps everywhere, faces, entire decacycles missing. I tried to fill in the blanks but failed. These images were based on Spark memory alone, fleeting and insubstantial, and soon vanished.

Exhausted by the attack on my processor, I succumbed to oblivion.


	26. Fracture

**A/N: **Find the Princess Bride moment and you win the internet. This chapter corresponds to Rise Extras 17-20.

**Edit**: Thank you to the reviewers who pointed out what could be better, and an especially big thank you to Lemur for telling me _how_ to improve it. I hope that you find this more satisfying.

* * *

**26. Fracture**

* * *

I was denied flight. I was denied the company of my fellow Decepticons, denied conversation with any but my master. I was denied the luxury of personal space and the sanctity of my own body and Spark. I was denied even the refuge of my memories. Those were lost to disuse or corruption or the cruel firewalls keeping me from my own past. Faces blurred and names became mere suggestions of an idea. Even the images I tried to cling to wavered and warped, slipping away like so much spilled energon draining from a shattered cube. My closest friends became scattered, vague images, snatches of scenes from a time that felt eons away.

Something dull and hopeless grew inside of me, making its dark voice heard in the gaps once occupied by my memory. _Why fight?_ it asked. _Why resist any longer?_

The flash of a grin, trophies in the form of red paint scraped onto my claws, echoes of a satisfying ache in my frame, a faint twitch of my hands in an instinctive movement before I realized that I'd forgotten what I was doing. Gone in a klik.

_Why_? I knew I had to resist something. Someone. _Ratbat_. But I couldn't remember why.

A smile. Something blue – armor? optics? – a hand on my shoulder that wasn't punishing, wasn't cruel. My Spark gave a brief flutter, warming in response to… something. It slowed down in a moment, heavy and cold as always.

Ratbat's smile was poisonous; his hands left a tingle behind them as part of me rebelled still against the touch. His words dripped into my audios, sticky-sweet and cloying.

Hands, strong, sometimes gentle, picking me up and straightening my plating. A gleam of light on the line of a wing. Words, harsh and teasing but clean, surfaced in the mire my processor had become before sinking again, lost.

The hot blue-white Spark was ravenous after being trapped in its pathetic cassette form for so long. His hands circled my wrists as I struggled automatically, knowing only that I _must_, that I _had to_, and losing that faintest sense of rebellion would end me.

A laugh. A hand in mine, lips brushing my cheek, a place of light. A pure Spark given to me, something willing and familiar and enjoyed. A name tickled my glossa, buzzed in my vocalizer, but its sounds had disappeared, lost from my memory. Remembered joy threatened to bloom in my Spark but I held it, cherished it, kept it away from Ratbat's taint.

And in the losing, the withholding, all that made it to my Spark was constricting grief, choking and stifling, and a single heavy sob tore at my vocalizer.

My master paused in his torment, a lying hand – pretending to be gentle – stroking my cheek.

"Are you sad, my pet?" His poison-laced words dripped into my audios.

_Fight_, the smaller part of me whispered.

_Surrender,_ the dark part urged. Their battle coiled around my vocals and silenced me.

"You continue to struggle. And yet it seems that the passion has gone out of you. Where is your fire now, slave? Your defiance?" He smirked and kissed me like a lover. Deceptive and false, but part of me yearned for the touch, and that part controlled me in this confusion that fogged my processor, and that part compelled me to respond to his lips, to try to follow when they left me. He chuckled, his Spark radiating pleasure and smug satisfaction. "The light has gone out of your optics. Have I finally broken your spirit?"

My Spark gave a pitiful twinge of anger. _Not all of me,_ I wanted to say, but the dark part weighed down my glossa.

Ratbat's smile screamed triumph and he leaned down, mouthplates ghosting over mine as he spoke, victory evident in his voice. "Ah, my pet, I've won."

* * *

I remembered little of those dark vorns. It was an unending nightmare full of Ratbat's words, Ratbat's hands. Ratbat's Spark. My weak, obligatory defiance delighted him, especially once he'd learned that the Spark had gone out of it. He never grew bored of mocking me or marking me. I grasped at the fragile shards of my memory but managed to retain only scattered images.

I grew accepting. Tired. I became a shell of my former self: "Nova" was gone, curled up and tucked away in a far-off corner of my Spark.

It may have been vorns or astrocycles for all that I knew until the dark existence was disturbed. I heard a faint thump. Strangely familiar. At once there was a commotion, mechs running through the halls. My master was livid, his optics burning furiously yellow. He seized my wing and marched me down to the sublevels, where I could no longer hear the sounds of… something… from outside.

"Such insolence," he hissed. Somewhere deep inside, it gave me pleasure to see him angered. Ratbat opened a door I recognized as the cell. My cell. I'd been here several times since my first stay, but I had never grown used to it.

He pushed me in, closing the door, and all was dark save for the dim glow of my optics. My vents kicked on, my Spark flaring in panic. Vorns had not erased my claustrophobia. I offlined my optics, struggling not to purge my fuel tank.

I waited in the silence and darkness, trying to calm myself. Curiosity ventured out from the pit in which it had hidden. Ratbat was upset. Why?

After some time, I became aware of a tug in my Spark, a faint, faint burn of recognition, and "Nova" raised his head from where he was curled into his corner of my Spark, hesitant, cautious.

The door opened and I flinched away from the blinding light, shrinking back from what was sure to be my master.

"Nova?!"

My designation. I hadn't heard it in so long that it startled me. This mech wasn't Ratbat. I peered closer at the dark silhouette, seeing… blue optics. That made no sense. No Autobot had ever called me by my designation.

Then there was a brighter flash, the sound of a weapon being fired, the smell of melted plating and internals, and the blue optics went out, the mech falling to one side. Light gleamed on the line of a wing… red optics. The mech who had been hidden behind the Autobot moved closer. Spoke again. "Nova!"

His voice. I knew that voice, those optics, those hands that now grasped my arms, shaking me gently, pulling me out of the cramped cell. I knew him.

"St-ar…?" I hazarded. _Star-something_. Still wasn't sure. I'd never seen him before. Hard to speak. My vocalizer hurt, hissing with static.

His hands came up to my face, tilting my head back slightly. The touch made me almost queasy – all I felt were Ratbat's hands, and now he would strike. I flinched at pain that didn't come.

"Primus," he whispered. "It _is_ you. Hold still."

He linked to the port at the back of my neck. I could feel his presence in my processors, sifting through everything, and I struggled, thrashing weakly, trying to dislodge him.

"Slag, you're a mess. How long has it been since you got a virus scan? Debugged? Defragged?"

Firewall. Just like Firewall. What more could he take from me? I tried to expel him from my processor. As much success as last time.

"Nova. Nova, listen to me."

He withdrew. I slumped in relief - but how could I know whether he'd taken anything? How would I ever know what I'd lost this time?

Hands on my face again. No pain. What was all this about? I onlined my optics again and he was right there. Red optics. Not yellow. Not blue. Familiar.

"It's me, Nova. Starscream." My Spark gave a double-pulse. Had I known him? Not with Ratbat. From… before? "I'm here for you. To take you back."

_Back where?_

I answered myself. _Away from here. From Ratbat._

"Back?" I croaked.

"To Kaon. To the Decepticons." I remembered that. I remembered the towers, half broken, hallways underground, a room filled with datapads. Mechs with red optics. Like Starscream's. _Decepticons_. I was… I had been… their commander…? Firewall had left that. _For the comparison_. Hadn't Ratbat said that? "You'll be free again, Nova."

_Free._ I couldn't speak.

Starscream took my shoulders, talking slowly and clearly. "I need to get into your processor again, Nova. To help you."

No. Never helped. Only stole. Hid.

But I… knew him, somehow. I could trust him. I nodded and he linked in again, careful to show me exactly what he was doing.

"How… long?" I tried slowly. He hesitated while he ran through my systems, attacking the firewalls and connecting me to his own virus scanner.

"It's been a while, Nova," he said finally.

"How long?"

Again he hesitated. "Fifteen vorns."

Vorns. Felt like longer. My chronometer wavered, then jumped forward as he set it running again. A measure of sanity, seeing the kliks go past again. I watched them, marveling.

"Is anything coming back to you?"

I wasn't sure. Couldn't be sure. The Decepticons, yes. Now that I knew his name I was remembering other things. Flight. He taught me to fly. He had been there with me, in Kaon, when I led.

"We all thought you'd been terminated," Starscream said. "I reclaimed leadership. All this time, I thought you were dead…"

_Yes… you led once. Before me. _Concern. Concern in his voice, and somehow I knew that this was strange, for him. Why would he be concerned for me?

Close. I was close to him. This feeling in my Spark…

"…c-creator," I rasped. His optics met mine.

"Yes. I am." He looked concerned, only starting to realize how much I'd forgotten. "Prime let slip that you'd been captured, that you were here… Nova?"

Prime. My mouthplates moved independent of my control. _Optimus_, I mouthed. My Spark gave a great surge of _knowing_. A vague figure from my earliest memories… caregiver…?

_Betrayal_. What betrayal? Something dark roiled in the pit of my Spark. Why did that name make me feel… angry?

"How's this?" He meant my processor. I blinked. "I can't do much about the firewalls, Nova. Not until we get to Kaon."

My head felt clearer than it had in… a long while. "B-better."

"All right, let me see your thrusters. What's he done to you?"

I told him, haltingly, painfully, everything. His face darkened as he listened. A greater change took place within me as I spoke. The dark, subjugated part of me boiled away as the rest reared up in seething fury. I hated Ratbat. I hated the Senate. I hated the Autobots for letting this happen to me.

"The slagger," he hissed. Wonderfully honest after so many vorns of Ratbat's poisoned lies. "I'll terminate him."

"Me… first," I vowed. He took one look at my face and deferred, supporting me to my pedes.

"This will hold you for short distances, but not sustained flight. Skywarp can get you out of here in a hurry."

Skywarp… Skywarp sounded familiar.

"While you're leaving, we'll burn this place to the ground. Would you like that?"

I nodded. All trace of this place should be wiped from Cybertron's surface.

He helped me limp to the upper levels, where the sounds of fighting were louder. The next hall housed a group of mechs. All red optics. Some of them had constructed a barricade across the opposite door and were currently firing over it. The others turned as Starscream and I approached. There was an excited babble as they crowded around, reaching out towards me. I shrank from their hands – _Ratbat grabbing at me, the guards beating me down…_

"Stay back," Starscream barked, batting their hands away. "Give him room. Nova?" He put a hand on my arm. I quivered, but managed to stay otherwise still. "It's all right. These are your mechs. Decepticons."

I looked around. All of these mechs bore the same symbol as Starscream. I glanced self-consciously at my heavily damaged wing… though the paint was long gone, the metal scorched and dented, I could still see the scarring of my sigil.

I vaguely recognized another Seeker, dredging his designation from my memory… Skywarp. I knew him… completion, fulfillment… my wingmate?

"My lord," a massive bomber-type murmured, dropping to his knees, his single optic spiraling closed. He held up his hands, offering my confiscated sword. It looked pitifully small in his huge pincers. I took it carefully. My good wing was almost too battered to hold it, but it stayed.

"Commander!" A mech skidded to a halt, staring at me, then continued his report. "We've forced the Autobots to the upper levels; we believe Ratbat's holed up in the secondary audience chamber with them…"

I lurched at him, gripping his armor. "Take me there," I forced out. Starscream nodded to the soldier.

"Follow me," the soldier said. I kept at his heels, Starscream and the rest of the Decepticons just behind us, still holding off the Autobots. My processor whirled as I passed once more through the place of my nightmares. Soon I would be free of it forever; all those who had beaten me or mocked me would be annihilated. They all deserved to die.

The Autobots made a stand in Ratbat's audience chamber. I didn't see them, didn't notice the danger of their numbers and weapons—all I saw was Ratbat at their backs, hiding behind his guards. As both sides opened fire, he turned to flee, preparing to transform. I fired up my thrusters and hurtled over the Autobots' heads, catching the purple mech and slamming him down on the lashrack. The searing pain in my thrusters was a small price to pay for the satisfying crack. Ratbat coughed up energon, his fuel tank ruptured in the collision. I heard my trinemates battling the Autobots who sought to aid their precious Senator, but I tuned it out; the world shrank until it was just him and me.

"Please!" he gasped. _Coward_. "Spare me! I'll do whatever you ask, please!"

"Anything?" I spat, prying his chestplates brutally apart as he had done to me so many times, relishing his screeches. He scrabbled desperately at my arms, yellow optics blazing with the terror of a mech who knew he was doomed.

"Yes, please, anything you want, anything!"

I wanted to say more. _I want you to die a slow, agonizing, hideous death. I want you to suffer every iota of pain and humiliation that you've inflicted on me. I want you to scream and beg for death._ But my vocalizer couldn't handle it.

A shout from Starscream reminded me that I had no time to do everything that I'd fantasized about. "Wrap it up, Nova! They've got reinforcements!"

I dragged Ratbat up so I could snarl in his face. "_Die_."

I closed my claws around his Spark casing and yanked hard with strength I hadn't known I possessed, crushing the delicate chamber in my fist. Ratbat shrieked, spasmed once, and then his Spark guttered and died. His shell grayed over beneath me.

I let the now-empty Spark casing fall to the floor, staring at my energon-coated hands. The satisfaction faded surprisingly soon. I frowned, letting Ratbat's body slide off of the lashrack. It hadn't quite been what I'd thought it would be.

"You can help me exterminate the Senate later," Starscream shouted at me as the Decepticons directed their fire towards the roof, shattering it. We blasted out amid heavy fire; I saw more Decepticons in the air outside, blasting the Autobots on the ground. Beside me, Starscream jerked with a vicious curse, but kept flying.

Starscream must have sent a command over their comms, for the Decepticons disengaged as one, following us away. I twisted for a last look at my former prison. Ratbat's once-grand estate was ruined; an entire wing burned merrily, smoke rising hundreds of astrometers into the air. I saw continued fighting on the ground—the other slaves, those who could not fly, taking advantage of the chaos to make a break for it.

"They'll be fine," Skywarp assured me at my elbow. "Right now our priority is getting you back to Kaon. Come on, Nova, we have to go."

Starscream, uncharacteristically silent, and Skywarp flew on either side of me, supporting me between them. Although my thrusters were agony and my missing wing meant that I couldn't possibly fly on my own, it felt good to be back in the sky after all those vorns.

"Primus, Nova," Skywarp said. "You're _alive_… we all thought… I thought…"

"I'm here," I choked—my vocalizer would need repairs to restore my voice to its former state. I could barely remember him… we were trinemates, so we must have been close.

"You're trine, Nova. My wingmate. Without you it was like… like having a wing torn off." His optics flicked to the stub of my wing. "I'm… I'm so sorry, Nova—"

Starscream's flight path wobbled. "It's nothing," he hissed in response to Skywarp's concerned look. "I took some fire, that's all. Keep flying."

I glanced at him, noticing how pale his optics were. "Need… rest?"

"No!" he said stubbornly. Then he winced. "Maybe… a cycle or two."

"Primus, Sc—you're leaking all over!"

We managed a wobbly landing; the other Decepticons landed as well, maintaining a healthy distance. Now that I was looking closely, I saw that Starscream's wounds were worse than he'd let on. Energon spilled from a jagged hole in his torso. Inside I could see sparking circuitry and severed fuel lines. I was amazed that he'd made it this far.

Guilt squeezed my Spark. He'd sustained this injury while covering me as I disposed of Ratbat… protecting me. If I hadn't been so bent on revenge, I would have noticed sooner.

Starscream saw where I was looking and grimaced. "Sabot slugs," he gritted out. "Adapted from the humans. Didn't know they had them."

"Hang on," Skywarp urged him. "We'll get you to a medic."

"Idiot," scoffed Starscream, shifting as though to sit up. This increased the energon flow so drastically that I reached out to press him back down. Though my memories of Starscream remained elusive, seeing him like this did horrible things to my Spark, as though someone were squeezing and twisting.

"Don't. Help you?"

His optics dimmed as he ran a diagnostic. "No," he answered weakly. "Damage critical. Nnn-! Primary fuel line is slagged."

Skywarp gave a wounded groan. I sat numb. This couldn't be happening. After all that had happened, to lose him so soon after he found me, before I could even _remember_…

Skywarp grabbed Starscream's shoulders. "You… don't _do_ this to me, Screamer!"

"Don't… kkh… _call me that_," Starscream growled back. A memory tickled furtively at my processor, but darted away as soon as I tried to concentrate.

"I already lost TC. Don't you leave me too! I don't want to be alone!"

"Warp," his trinemate interrupted, reaching up his free hand to cover Skywarp's mouth. "You're not alone." He guided his wingmate – _my_ wingmate – to look at me. "He's trine now. You need to look after Nova. Keep him out of trouble. Don't you dare follow me."

Skywarp nodded. Starscream's hand lingered on his face for a moment. Then he looked at me and his optics dimmed. I received the databurst a klik later and processed it. It was a memory file… no, not one, but many. And all of these memory files, so carefully saved and kept in a well-guarded corner of his processor, involved a small Seeker. Vorns of Starscream watching the young mech change and grow—from the gleam of tiny optics activating for the first time to the Spark-wrenching agony of giving him up, of stepping back to watch from the shadows as he grew from the tiny protoform he had been into an adolescent; from the surge of joy and pride as he took to the sky on his own to the nearly overwhelming ache of gratitude as he flew in with two familiar mechs; from the satisfaction and pleasure of a mind changed to the dedication and loyalty towards a leader.

And the emotions washed over me: happiness, grief, exasperation, affection, respect, frustration… the pain he had suffered for those vorns I had been gone… the pride he felt every time he watched me fly… the warmth in his Spark when he looked at me… how it felt to watch his Nova grow up.

And then I understood just what Starscream was giving me, just what he was telling me, something he couldn't put into words, something that he could only express by passing on those precious memories to me: that somewhere under his sharp, smirking exterior, he had cared for me, and that beyond the oaths he had taken, he had protected me. All my life he'd been there, though I didn't know it, and he'd watched as I grew up, and then he'd finally been able to step in and help me mature and become someone he could be proud of. He loved me down to the Spark.

All of this I processed in a few brief kliks. When I returned from my perusal of the databurst, he watched me still. I didn't trust my vocal processors to speak; instead I nodded to show I understood.

"Rise up," he said, and though his voice cracked, there was no mistaking the emotions layered inside it. I nodded again and he smiled at me. It was his usual smirk, always that little hint of irony, as though he were party to some cosmic inside joke.

Then his optics darkened and he was still, the hum of his systems fading into silence. Beside me, Skywarp shuddered, giving a choked whimper. A wisp of memory – _bonded. His bondmates… gone. Hurts him._ My own Spark wrenched inside me, burning; I felt the grief as intensely as the other Seeker. Between my Spark and the memory files, I knew what I had lost.

For a while we didn't, couldn't, move or speak.

After a time, the Decepticons shifted around us. "Commander," I heard. "We should move."

Skywarp stood up, shaking visibly. I heard whispers, quiet murmurs, and saw optics directed from me to Starscream's gray frame and back.

"Lugnut, transform," the other Seeker ordered, somehow managing to speak clearly. I could hear the knot of grief in his voice. The monstrous, single-opticked bomber who had fetched my sword obeyed. "My trine—" His voice quivered and broke. He reset his vocalizer and continued, "My trine will ride in you. All of you, set your course for Kaon and get there as fast as you can. The Commander needs a medic."

* * *

It didn't feel like freedom. At any moment, I expected to be struck with a shockstick, to be seized and dragged back to Ratbat – _he's dead, I killed him, he can't hurt me any more. _But logic failed to reach me. The fear had become instinctive.

I tried to recharge, but I was so accustomed to being forcibly awakened at odd hours that I couldn't keep myself offline for more than a megacycle at a time. It was the nightmares that woke me most often: Ratbat's hands on me, his being hungrily devouring mine, and I woke with a shock, Spark flaring in panic, sometimes to Skywarp's questioning look.

The result was a long, uncomfortable journey. I drank the energon offered to me by Skywarp, but it barely helped my physical state. The inability to recharge properly meant that I spent much of the time staring into space, unable to shake Starscream from my processor.

The cityscape of Kaon was refreshing – Firewall had not hidden my memories of Kaon itself, my city, my home. It was enough to calm me as Skywarp led the way out of the transformed Decepticon, enough to lead my steps towards where I knew the medbay lay, but halfway there I hesitated. I knew something.

I allowed my pedes to lead me off of the original path.

"Nova? Where are we going?" Skywarp kept pace at my elbow.

I couldn't answer. I still didn't know.

We arrived at the large door, which opened for us automatically, and I stepped through into quiet darkness.

"Why here?" Skywarp asked softly.

"Memory," I answered, vocalizer even worse now.

A mech appeared quite suddenly out of the blue glow. _Archivist_, something in me supplied helpfully.

"Welcome home, Commander," the Archivist murmured, reaching out to take me by the elbow. I jerked and he let go quickly. "My apologies. The Hall of Memory, no doubt."

I knew better than to question him. The next room, with its blue-lit consoles, was as familiar as the one before it. I sat before a console, battling down the instinct to struggle as the Archivist linked me into it.

_/Interesting,/ _I felt in my head, along with a presence too massive to define.

_What _is _he?!_ I wondered, almost panicking. Reassurance flooded me.

_/I will not harm you. You may find the process easier if you go into temporary stasis. Will you allow me?/_

Anxiety and willingness, instinct and logic battled in my Spark. Trust won out. _/Yes./_

It wasn't like normal forced stasis. More like recharge, with snatches of memory darting here and there. Over it all presided a presence with unfathomable space and knowledge.

I woke.

My processor ran smoothly, free from blocks, my memory complete. But it was a bittersweet discovery; I knew what I had missed, who had been mourning for me… who I would be mourning for.

* * *

After the physical repairs had been completed, Skywarp and I set off alone, bearing Starscream's body northwest towards Vos. My Spark was too heavy even to enjoy the flight, to feel the wind caressing my wings, to relish that weightless, delirious joy of freedom. My first sight of Vos, ancestral home of all fliers, was tainted by the weight in my arms. Still, the vast canyons, the natural spires, all spoke of a place that Starscream would love, a worthy resting place for any Seeker.

Skywarp took the lead, flying towards one of the spires. At the last moment, he sank down pedes-first, revealing that the top was open to the sky. I followed, landing in a cool, dark space, large enough to dispel my claustrophobia. In the center was a carefully constructed plinth covered in carved glyphs.

The other Seeker beckoned me forward. I looked down into the raised area and found a layer of the same high-resistance glass which comprised our canopies, beneath which lay a greyed Seeker. My Spark gave a horrible pang and for a moment I couldn't speak.

"Thundercracker," I murmured as soon as my vocal processors would allow it. He looked… peaceful. Content.

Skywarp activated a panel and the glass slid back. I gently lowered Starscream's frame beside Thundercracker's, then stepped back to allow Skywarp room to stand before them. Further back, I could see the glyphs carved into the tomb: "'Til all are one." That phrase drew up Thundercracker in my memory. It carried with it a sense of calm, of peace.

"You know…" Skywarp started, then paused to reset his vocal processors. "Megatron was wrong about Star. Always called him a coward, or a traitor, or a failure. But he came through when it really mattered… he always did. And he came through with you."

_The only thing I ever did right._

"He really did care about you. I felt it in his Spark. He loved you."

My optics felt hot. "I know." Always watching me, always protecting me, in his own way… Starscream had always been there when I'd needed him.

_You don't need me anymore._

But I do.

_Don't be an idiot._

I would have laughed if that miserable feeling in my throat had let me. That was exactly what Starscream would have said.

I left Skywarp staring bleakly at the makeshift monument and went to the nearest cliff, standing there with the freedom of the sky around me on all sides. For a moment I wished that he'd left me something, some item that I could carry about in my subspace. But it was a passing fancy, a foolish thought. I already had my inheritance. I had the all the most valuable, the most precious things that Starscream could have given me within myself.

I wasn't religious. I believed in the existence of Primus, and in the Well of All Sparks, but I had never made a habit of praying, so I had no idea what the proper words would be for this time. Instead I murmured a short Seeker blessing that Starscream had taught me – _"Let the wind carry you above the stars"_ – and it seemed as decent a rite as any. I shuttered my optics and turned my face to the wind.

_Goodbye, Starscream._


	27. Haunted

**27. Haunted**

* * *

My recharge was frequently interrupted by nightmares, the shock thrusting me back into the waking world. I revisited those vorns with Ratbat each time I shuttered my optics. Lack of proper recharge made me testy, prone to angry outbursts.

The Constructicons conducted their repairs over the span of an orbit. Though my physical condition improved, I still felt unclean: Ratbat's taint remained. I avoided physical contact and kept away from large crowds and public areas. I confined myself to my rooms and the medbay.

I wanted to see Apis again, but I hesitated. What if she'd forgotten all about me? What if she'd given me up for terminated and moved on, found someone else? Or worse, what if Ratbat's whispers had been true, and she wouldn't want anything to do with me after what he'd done? Not yet, I decided. Not yet.

Hook pronounced me fit to return to my duties after an orbit under his inspection. I recharged poorly the night before, waking every megacycle. Each time I had to convince myself that Ratbat was gone, that I'd crushed his Spark in my hand, that I was free and safe.

There was only one way to end it – I had to finish the job as Starscream had meant to; I had to eliminate the Senate, utterly destroy the Autobots' leadership.

This included the one who had left me there, who had allowed it to happen. The one who hadn't fought to save me, too lost in his tangled morality to even try. A hot surge of anger swelled in my Spark as I thought about it. Optimus had _abandoned _me. For all his preaching, for all his words, he'd thrown me to the Senate.

I drank an extra cube of energon to make up for the recharge I had lost, then headed to the command center. The Decepticons I passed knew to keep their distance; they nodded respectfully and murmured greetings, backing off.

The command center's usual bustle quieted as everyone saw me, but I motioned them back to their business. The generals waited on the upper level. I saw familiar faces around the table – Stryka was there, as well as Flamewar and a battered Trannis. I couldn't help but notice the missing face… Starscream would never participate in a strategy meeting again.

There were new mechs here as well. Skywarp, who had never often stayed for something so dull, remained at my request – I'd asked him to be my Air Commander.

"I won't be as good as Starscream," he'd answered glumly.

"You've been in his trine for astrocycles," I pointed out. "You know what to do. I don't." When I said this, my Spark had briefly clenched with realization: I would be the trineleader now.

Along with Skywarp, I saw other mechs who had only been up-and-comers when I'd been here last, former lieutenants who had risen through the ranks. Among them I saw Ramrod, standing behind Trannis and watching me with a mixture of concern and apprehension.

I'd made a point of avoiding Ramrod during my recovery. I still wasn't sure whether I could trust him, whether Ratbat had told the truth. Part of me knew that Ratbat had been trying to separate me from all that kept me sane, but the other part couldn't suppress its distrust.

I should have had him taken to the brig until we determined the truth. I opened my mouth to give the order, but something stopped me. I wanted to trust him… I needed to trust _someone_.

"Welcome back, Commander," Flamewar offered.

"Thank you," I answered, sitting down. I tried a smile – all I managed was a twitch in my mouthplates, a bitter grimace. "What have I missed?"

I sat quietly while they told me. We had failed to take the Tagan Heights, and Praxus had declared itself Neutral. Under Starscream's command, the Decepticons had pressed northward, destroying Helex and Tyrest. This didn't distress me. They deserved to die. They must all suffer for what they had done to me.

"We'll finish them at Kalis," I said. "They're half-defeated already. But in the meantime, something must be done about the Senate. We'll eliminate them once and for all. Without their leadership, the Autobots will be helpless."

"They'll rally around Prime."

"Then we'll finish him too."

There was shifting around the table. Nobody spoke against me.

"Also…" I'd remembered something. "I want a new weapon. Something to even the balance. If the Senate wants to fight dirty, we'll play their game. Sabot rounds. I want them used as soon as possible."

"Uh… Nova?" I looked at Skywarp, who squirmed uncomfortably. "I mean… you've seen what those things, uh, do."

"And?" I said coolly. I had seen the effects of the sabot slugs, the way they'd melted through Starscream's armor and torn his internals to pieces.

"It will be done," Shockwave said.

"How many senators can we find?" I asked.

"Most," Soundwave said. He had been silent for the majority of the meeting. "The rest will be located."

"As soon as possible."

We adjourned shortly. It had tired me more than I'd remembered – I wanted to get back to my quarters and recharge, if I could. I headed out of the command center.

"Nova. Nova, wait."

Ramrod's voice. I hesitated, glancing over my shoulder… a mistake. Just seeing him brought back the memory of Ratbat's words, his promise that Torsion remained an Autobot spy – I didn't want to believe it, but I _did_.

"Do you…" He struggled with himself, then shrugged helplessly. "Do you want to spar?"

_Don't trust him. He'll probably deactivate you if you give him the chance._

"Maybe another time," I lied, before turning my back on him. I couldn't put myself at his mercy yet. Too close were my memories of the physical dominance of Ratbat and his guards. I wasn't as sure of my abilities as I had once been. My creator had been the greatest gladiator of Kaon, I had bested Starscream in a duel… yet I felt weak now, as though my former strength had melted away under Ratbat's treatment.

* * *

I lay on my berth, staring at the ceiling, but I couldn't bring myself to shutter my optics. Two decacycles, several skirmishes, and the deaths of five Senators hadn't eased my nightmares; every time I drifted into recharge I was back with Ratbat, his hands, his hungry Spark, his poisonous whispers.

"You'll never escape me," he purred. "Never. Who will want you now?"

I jolted awake, realizing only then that I'd dropped off. I seemed always on the verge of stasis lately, unable to stay in recharge despite the exhaustion. In the past I'd been able to work out stress during my spars with Ramrod, but I still hadn't been able to face him. Skywarp had been training with me instead, but each time I hit the ground, I'd be transported back to the lashrack, or back under the pedes of Ratbat's guards, enduring their savage kicks and their cruel laughter, seeing their blue optics alight with cruel mirth—

Again I woke, shaking, my Spark pulsing out of control. Frustrated, I got up and fetched myself a cube of energon, sipping it as I paced my quarters.

Even the assassinations hadn't cheered me. The first had been almost boring; I'd insisted on going along even into the core of Autobot territory, to Altihex. The senators, three of them, had met in an estate. We'd shrieked in from above and I'd seen the lavish surroundings, the soft cushions, alien drapes, delicate flutes of high-grade energon.

_How dare you?! _I demanded inwardly. _How dare you sit here in luxury while we must scrape for energon?!_

I registered each face as the blue optics stared up at us in horror. This was it – the face of the corruption against which I fought – the sheer evil of the Senate.

Ratbat's face was superimposed over each of them.

"How many times do I have to kill you?" I snarled, half to myself.

I felt nothing as they died, not sorrow, not guilt, not even satisfaction. The backlash from the solid slugs had taken some getting used to, but I grew accustomed to it. The added bonus of the armor-melting shells was well worth the additional effort.

The smoke burned my sensitive vents and I heard sirens, but I was slow to move. I stood staring at the grey shells as alarms clamored. Three mechs closer to my revenge… not enough. It wasn't nearly enough to achieve peace. Only the destruction of the Senate would assure security… perhaps it would take more than that.

"Nova," Skywarp urged. "We should leave."

"I know," I said, but I wasn't looking at him; I still watched the corpses. Gray and unmoving, just as they had been when they hit the ground.

There was a touch on my waist, an arm slipping around me, pulling me hard against armor.

"Did you think you were rid of me?" Ratbat murmured. "Foolish slave. You are _mine_."

My cube of energon shattered at my pedes, again jolting me back to the here and now. There was no one else in the room; the only sounds that broke the silence were my quick intakes and the faint trickle of spilled energon.

Yet I still felt him, a prickle on the fringes of my awareness, the echo of his voice. I spun around – no one was there. My empty quarters stared back at me.

I looked down at the broken cube, kneeling to gather the pieces.

Would I be haunted by Ratbat's remnants for the rest of my life? I couldn't survive this way. I had to crush him, to wipe him out completely. I had to eliminate the Senate, destroy all traces of Ratbat and his allies.

But the sneaking suspicion kept nagging at me… what if it wasn't enough?

"Nova?"

I nearly dropped the shards of the cube in surprise. It was only Skywarp looking in through the connecting door. "Are you all right?"

I indicated the spilled energon. "I just dropped a cube. I'm fine."

"Okay."

I went back to my task. Moments later, the purple Seeker joined me on hands and knees, sopping up the energon with a cleaning cloth. After I'd deposited the shards in the waste, he spoke up again.

"Are you sure you're all right, Nova?"

My defenses rose. "I'm fine. Why?"

Skywarp shrugged. "It's just… I know it's not easy. Getting over… things."

"I'm _fine_," I insisted, heat rising to my plating. What was he implying? That I was distracted? If anything, I had become more focused on my goal of breaking the Autobot domination of our homeworld.

"I mean… I know how it is. If you ever want to talk, I'm always around."

"What do you care?" I snapped, rounding on him. He barely flinched – Starscream's rages had been more impressive. "What would you know? You've never been though what I have. You couldn't possibly—!"

I forced myself to stop. "I'm… I'm sorry, 'Warp."

Skywarp shrugged. "I've heard worse." He sat on the berth, patting the space beside him. "Come here. Let's talk."

I sat next to him, tapping my fingers on my knees.

"I might not be as good at this stuff as Starscream." Skywarp's voice was bleak. I glanced over at him and saw in his face the same deep, numbing emptiness that Starscream's death had left in my own Spark.

Skywarp hadn't been there with Ratbat, but neither had I lived through the loss of two bondmates.

"I miss him," I confessed at last. "I need him more than ever."

"I know. I miss both of them." Skywarp reached out to lay an arm across my shoulders. Even that contact made me nervous. "Screamer had some big plans for you. Even if he didn't show it a lot, he thought you were the best thing that could have happened to us. He had all these ideas…"

He sighed through his vents. There was silence. I felt the aching void Starscream had left in my Spark.

"I'm sorry," I said at last. "It's my fault. He died protecting me. I could have—"

"Don't start that," Skywarp interrupted. "Don't even think about it. It wasn't your fault, Nova. Starscream did what he wanted to. It was his choice. You couldn't have stopped him if you'd tried."

I wasn't sure whether I believed him; guilt still gnawed at me.

"Nova… how long has it been since you've had a decent recharge?"

"It's all right."

Skywarp looked suspicious. "You've been offline on your landing struts lately. Is it sky-hunger? Have you been flying as often as you should?"

"You're not my creator," I snapped, then felt instantly remorseful at the stricken look on his face – he _could _have been, he or Thundercracker _should _have been my creator. "I'm sorry. I've gone flying every orn."

It was true. I'd been out of the base, flying about, but no matter how often I flew my restlessness stayed. I returned to the ground feeling just as upset and three times as tired.

Skywarp nodded, skeptical. "All right." A silence. "You're lonely, aren't you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You haven't been hanging out with your friend Ramrod. And you haven't been to see Apis, either. You hardly talk to anyone and you don't stay around crowds. You're always alone."

"I prefer my space."

"You have to interact, Nova. Reach out. If you don't face it, you'll never get around this… thing. Trust me. Trust your Decepticons."

"I wish I could," I said. Skywarp didn't answer.

* * *

I had to do something about my recharge cycle. Those memories of Ratbat were driving me slowly insane; I needed to be mentally and physically fit if I were to lead effectively.

There was only one mech I trusted in matters of the processor. At the next opportunity, I went back to the Hall of Memory. As soon as I had settled myself before one of the consoles, the Archivist drifted up behind me, pedes scarcely whispering against the floor.

"How may I help you?"

"When I was with… when I was at Kalis, they constructed firewalls to keep me from accessing certain memory files. Is there any way to do the same, from here, if I choose which memories to block?"

He nodded slowly. "There is."

"I'd like to do so."

The Archivist remained silent for a long moment.

"I have worked with memories for many astrocycles," he finally said. "I have learned my own limitations and those of others. Our memories form our character. I know well how painful we may find them at times, but without them we are incomplete."

"Then you won't help me."

"I will do my utmost to help you. I will not block you from your own memory. However, there is a way to lessen the intensity of unwelcome flashbacks. Our processors have constant access to all memories and this can sometimes have undesirable consequences. I can arrange it so that your processor may only access the memories of your time with the Autobots when you actively seek them."

"And it would help?"

"Most likely, yes."

I linked to the console, simultaneously uploading my recent memories to the Archives. They flicked past in a whirl of flames and battles… it seemed that this was all I had done since my return. When had I lost count of the Autobots I killed? It didn't seem to matter any more.

* * *

I thought of Thundercracker that night, for the first time in a long while. I was flying over Kaon when I remembered our chases through Iacon; I dipped around imaginary spires, following the phantom memory.

_Don't forget to fly, _Thundercracker had told me then. I missed him… his calm rationality, the comforting touch of his energy field. He'd been there to support me through the hardest times – he had stood behind me when I'd been branded with my Decepticon sigils, silent but reassuring, and he had comforted me after I'd taken my first Autobot life.

Flying with only Skywarp felt wrong. Our trine had been sundered. I wondered whether this was the way he and Starscream had felt after losing Thundercracker. Despite what Skywarp had said, I still felt the guilt intensely – Starscream's death, like Thundercracker's, had been my fault. How could Skywarp look into my face? How could he follow me?

* * *

An orbit later, twelve since my rescue, I returned to Kalis. The aerial Decepticons met with no resistance as we entered the city-state, since Kalis bordered Tarn, solidly Decepticon territory. I didn't look down as we passed over Khalkon. I couldn't think about Apis. Not yet.

_/We should have seen some Autobots by now,/ _I commed the others. The disaster at Praxus remained ingrained in my memory. _/Keep your optics focused. It may be a trap./_

By the time we reached the remains of Ratbat's estate, we had seen no Autobots. I detected energy signatures amid the ruins and signaled my mechs to land. We went cautiously, weapons raised as Lugnut emptied himself of the squad of groundpounders we'd brought along. I couldn't bring myself to look at Ramrod.

The formerly lavish estate was barely recognizable. Only the ground floor and the sublevels remained more or less intact; unfortunately, this included both audience chambers. I froze at the sight of the lashrack.

"Chain him there… face-up, if you will."

The chilling order sent a shudder through me. I wanted to run, but I couldn't move, couldn't cycle an intake…

"What are you doing here?"

I snapped out of it. Before us, I saw a group of ragged mechs. Ratbat's other slaves, I realized, recognizing them.

"You're too late," the mech in front said. "We dealt with the Autobots ourselves."

His contemptuous tone baffled me. We were all Decepticons. Why did he speak as though I were an enemy?

"Then we should…"

"Don't waste your pretty speeches. You're not welcome here," the other Decepticon snapped. "You abandoned us to fight on our own. Why should we fight with you now?" I could think of nothing to say. "You can't command us. We're Neutral now. Get out."

I stared at him, half disbelieving. But he was right – we'd left the slaves to their own devices as we flew safely back to Kaon.

Wordlessly, I turned to go, most of my Decepticons following. As I reached the door, I heard a familiar voice – Ramrod.

"It's not as though any of you tried to help _him_."

Nobody answered.

We left the ruins and gathered in the courtyard, preparing to take flight. Just as I was ready to start my thrusters, I felt a cold grasp on my throat, another hand holding my wrist.

"Leaving so soon, pet?" Ratbat purred. "It isn't that easy. Did you think I'd let you walk outside and fly away?"

"You're dead," I whispered, hating how weak and terrified I sounded. "I tore out your Spark – I _felt_ you die!"

"Foolish slave. You'll never be rid of me. You could never kill me."

"Nova? Are you all right?"

Skywarp had leaned in front of me, and the touch on my armor was gone. I jerked about, but all I saw behind me were confused Decepticons, waiting on my command. Just for a moment I saw yellow optics, the curve of a triumphant smirk, but when I looked again there was nothing.

"Let's go," I croaked. I couldn't stay here another minute.

As we took to the air, a thought struck me – if these were just residual memories, then why couldn't I remember Ratbat ever speaking those words?

* * *

"It didn't work."

I'd returned to the Hall of Memory as soon as we arrived back in Kaon. The Archivist looked perplexed as he sank down into the next seat, though he soon regained his usual demeanor of calm wisdom.

"Curious. What happened?"

I told him about the visions I'd had, the waking nightmares, the whispers. He didn't speak until I'd finished completely.

"Strange. Your audios and surface sensors register a presence, yet your optics tell you otherwise… and nobody else appears to notice?"

"Nobody. And Skywarp stood right next to me the last time."

The Archivist folded his long fingers together, optics dimmed in thought. I waited nervously. I had come to depend on the Archivist as a source of inexhaustible knowledge; I didn't want to think that he might not know how to help me.

"I work with memories," he said at last, "so I am by no means an expert in matters of the Spark."

"That's what you think this is?" I asked. He sat forward.

"It must be painful to recall, but you must answer truthfully. When you were enslaved by the late Senator Ratbat… did he merge Sparks with you?"

Of all the questions I'd expected, that was the last. I looked away. "Yes. Many times."

"Ah." The Archivist frowned pensively. "Yes. It is as I feared."

"What? What is it?"

"I believe," he answered slowly, "that there may be some remnant of Ratbat which remains alive and well… within your own Spark."

I shuddered. "You mean… we're… bonded?"

"No. Not in the usual way. But… some part of him survives in you, and it is strong enough to affect you in unusual ways."

Unconsciously, I reached up to touch my cockpit. "Then there's nothing you can do." Nothing but to endure nights without recharge, the paralyzing terror of Ratbat's touch, his voice, all the things I hated about him…

"That may not be the case."

I leaned forward. "Tell me."

"You might not be able to defeat Ratbat on your own, but with the aid of another, you could best him… perhaps destroy him completely."

"How?"

"By bonding with another Spark."

My vocalizer caught. "I…" Bonding? It was out of the question. Nobody would bond with me now. Who would…

_Don't think of her. Don't think of him._

"I see," I said dully. "Thank you."

I stood to go. The Archivist made no attempt to stop me, but he spoke just as I reached the door.

"You can trust him, Nova."

It was too much to ask. How could I trust anyone now?

* * *

I dreamed of a stormy sky. I saw two Seekers wheeling among the clouds, illuminated by flashes of lightning. I sought to join them, battling against a relentless wind, and I realized we flew over the ruins of Simfur.

Approaching the two fliers, I recognized them… but even as I registered the dark blue and bright red armor, I recoiled in horror. Thundercracker had been stripped of his wings –_that wasn't how it had happened, he had fallen on our side, they'd brought him back whole_ – and Starscream had a gaping hole torn through his torso, through which I could see mangled internals. Both were covered in energon. Both watched me silently, their optics accusing.

_My fault… this happened because of me._

I tried to speak, but no sound came out. The other two Seekers grew distant, the clouds darker, until all was black.

I stood alone, straining to see through the darkness. Sudden fear gripped me – I knew what was coming… I knew, but it didn't prepare me for the cold, grasping fingers on my wings, the familiar hiss.

"All alone, slave?" A dark chuckle. "But you're never alone. Not anymore."

I shuttered my optics. This was a dream, only a nightmare, and I had to wake up. I needed to wake up…

"It isn't a dream," Ratbat said. "Unshutter your optics and you'll see."

I did. The ceiling of my quarters appeared before my optics, but the feeling of hands on my wings didn't disappear. I could _feel_ Ratbat, his weight resting on me as he pinned me to the berth, his mouthplates brushing along my jaw. My processor supplied what my optics could not; I half-saw his yellow optics, his wicked smile.

"This isn't real," I said out loud.

"Isn't it?" I felt faint pressure against my mouthplates. "I'm as alive as you, slave. And this time you can do nothing to stop me… not unless you extinguish your own Spark."

I felt the pain of my chestplates being wrenched apart, although I knew, I _knew _that they remained in place – and I made my greatest mistake. I offlined my optics, and suddenly I could see him above me, optics dancing as he dipped his fingers into my Spark casing, tenderly tracing the sensitive plating surrounding my core.

"You thought you'd escaped me? You're mine," he whispered. "I'll never release you. Tear yourself apart… it's so amusing to watch, especially from this new vantage point… I can feel _everything_."

"St-stop it…!"

It was my body, my processor, _my_ Spark… I had to take control, drive him out, but my efforts seemed only to amuse him.

"Your pitiful struggles are delicious," he commented. "Do go on."

It was futile. I couldn't stop him. My entire frame shuddered in a sob. "Leave me alone."

"Didn't I tell you before? You're never alone."

Hands – real, solid, physical hands – shook me, breaking me free. I onlined my optics to see Skywarp above me.

"That didn't sound like fun," he said.

I sat up, drawing my knees to my chest and burying my face in my arms. Skywarp sat beside me, comforting me. I almost missed his next words.

"Go see Apis, Nova."

"What?"

"You're being stubborn. It's tearing you apart. I told Starscream that I'd look after you. Go see her."

"She won't want me now," I said. "Not after… everything. She's probably forgotten all about me. It's been fifteen vorns."

"That little femme wouldn't forget you. Nova, she probably doesn't even know you're _alive_. You're not only hurting yourself by this."

He didn't understand… he didn't know what had happened, what Ratbat had done to me…

…but I thought of Apis. What if Skywarp was right? Could she still be mourning my supposed death after all these vorns? Was she still alone in that dusty little shop?

"I'll go," I answered finally.

"Today. Do you promise?"

"Yes." I had to do this, no matter how painful. As soon as the morning came, I would set out for Khalkon.


	28. Merged

**A/N: **The first section of this is another collaboration with Dancinglemur.

* * *

**28. Merged**

* * *

I landed outside the shop and hesitated, shifting on my sore pedes and wincing at the pain. My flight stamina still wasn't what it had been before my ordeal. I stared miserably at the door to the shop. The crowd swelled back out to swallow me, but the Neutrals continued to give me a wide berth upon seeing the Decepticon insignias on my wings.

I ignored them, lost in anticipation and longing and fear. I _wanted _to go in. I _wanted_ to see Apis. I wanted to see her so badly that it _hurt_.

But…

But doubts had festered in my Spark during those long vorns of slavery, and now they reared their heads. What if Apis had moved on, found someone who hadn't been used and broken and tossed aside, someone who could protect her, someone safe? I wouldn't be surprised. I would be unhappy—doomed to an existence filled with Ratbat's phantom touch—but it wasn't illogical to think that she might have found someone else. She was full of life and laughter and had this way of making me forget I was worried or unhappy or afraid. What sane mech wouldn't want that?

But even worse was the thought that she would no longer want me. So many times, I'd sprawled where I'd been dropped or thrown in the aftermath of Ratbat's twisted affections, believing that everyone would always see how stained, how ruined I was and nobody would want anything to do with me.

Apis especially.

I shook my head and moved forward, the crowd parting around me as I crossed the short distance to the shop. This was ridiculous! I was the creation of Megatron and Starscream, two of the greatest mechs in Cybertron's history! I was Supreme Leader of the Decepticons! I was… afraid. Afraid that Apis might reject me.

I hesitated again before the door, doubts and fears nearly overcoming me. I gritted my denta and forced myself to enter. I'd been through worse than this.

The chime rang and the familiar noise almost made me smile with nostalgia.

_"That chime is annoying. Why don't you change it?"_

_Apis grinned up at me from where she had thrown herself into my arms. We sat on the floor next to the door, the small femme having catapulted into me hard enough to make me stumble backwards and slide down to the floor. Shortstop was laughing from the work yard and Fritz was leering at us from over the counter, but Apis just cuddled closer._

_"I like it," she murmured into the wires of my neck. "It's always been that way. Lotsa good memories with that chime." She tightened her grip around me. "Like this one," she whispered, and I smiled and stroked the wheel on her back._

"So this is your precious little femme. How charming."

"Get out."

A chill gripped my Spark as I felt his mouthplates twist into a smirk against the back of my neck. "I think not. You continue to intrigue me, slave. I find your lovely, innocent memories so endearing… nearly as compelling as your memories of our time together. How nice it was."

"You're sick," I said.

"That's a matter of perspective."

I jerked free to find myself in a shop devoid of customers.

"I'm sorry," a voice rang out from the work yard, where I could see some sort of hovercar overturned and opened. A slim cream-and-blue figure came through the door, head down and sky-blue visor focused on the rag he held. "We're not… open… right now…"

The rag dropped to the floor and Shortstop stood framed in the doorway, mouth agape, staring at me as though he'd seen a ghost. "N-_Nova?_" he whispered.

"Shortstop," I said, already looking around for the orange bot I knew should be there. "Where—"

"I-in the back," the little mech choked out, still staring.

The cavernous storage room looked empty, a labyrinth filled with long aisles of various bits of merchandise. It was silent, save for the soft rustle of metal on metal.

The silence sent a chill up my backstrut. Apis was _never_ quiet while she worked, always humming or singing or chatting or listening to music or _something_. Never quiet. Never this horrible silence.

I followed the soft noise, moving deep into the rows of shelves until I could no longer see the door or hear the bustle of the crowd outside. The shelves loomed above me, closing in until my dread of tight spaces made me distinctly uncomfortable, and the high windows provided only rare, dusty shafts of light to guide me.

Then I found her.

At least, I thought it was her—the Apis I remembered, while often dusty and sometimes stained with oil or grease at the edges, had never let herself fall into such a state of disrepair. The femme that might have been orange beneath the grime stood slumped against a half-empty shelf, a box of spare four-wheeler parts at her pedes, unmoving, resting her head against the metal. The posture was as unnerving as the silence. Apis, while capable of deep thought and inner stillness, had never been so… listless. Her handlebars were wilted, her shoulders slumped, and her systems barely rumbled.

My hesitant step forward was painfully loud in the near-silence. I flinched, but Apis didn't turn to face me. She mumbled for Shortstop to go away and slumped further against the shelf. She didn't want to deal with anything, she went on, so he should just leave her in here for the next megacycle or so.

"…Apis?"

She stiffened, the wheel on her back spinning in surprise before locking back into place. She grabbed one elbow in the other hand, squeezing the slightly-rusted metal harshly. "No no no, not again," she moaned. "He's not really there, don't turn around, you're imagining it again…"

I took another step forward. "Apis… it's me."

Apis shuddered, pulled her head off of the shelf, and turned. She froze, staring at me in dumb surprise. Her optics widened, her hands came up to press over her mouth, and she took half a step backward to bump into the shelf.

"Apis," I said again, hesitantly—afraid. Had she found someone else after all? Was that why she was so distressed? She didn't want impromptu visions of the past to throw everything into confusion?

A small fist smacked me across the jaw. It didn't hurt, but I stepped back and stared down at the violently trembling femme now standing before me. "You, you, you _aft!_" she screeched, pounding her fists against my torso. I froze, not knowing what to do, and Apis collapsed, wrapping her arms around me.

"Stupid, stupid fragger!" she managed, her grip tightening to the point of pain. "Don't you _ever_ do that to me _ever _again. _Ever._"

My shoulders started shaking like hers and I embraced her, hiking her up my frame so that I could bury my face in the curve of her neck as we sank to the floor.

She moved all over me, checking every bit of my frame that she could reach (and some that she normally could not), first with her hands but occasionally dropping kisses that soon turned into the frenzied meeting of mouthplates, each of us desperate to check the other for harm done in our long time apart, making wordless noises of sorrow when such places were found. My fears that she no longer wanted me were soon assuaged by the desperate, relieved way that she chanted my designation and by the pull of her fingers on the sides of my face as she kissed every plane, and the way she tried to press herself closer, wordlessly conveying the desire to melt together so that we would never have to endure this horrible separation again.

She broke down in the middle of things, sobbing into my shoulder that she'd thought I was d_ead_ and that she hadn't really gotten to tell me goodbye, to say all the important things that she had never gotten around to. I soothed her with kisses and assurances that I would stay _right here_ with her for as long as I could.

We lay curled together in the middle of the dusty storeroom, Apis tracing my new scars once more, and I told her everything that had happened during my absence. I clung to her hard enough to scrape my paint onto her already grey-smeared chassis and felt her hold on me tighten in return. I would do everything in my power to spare her the pain of unknowing if this ever happened again.

* * *

Safe in her home, secluded from the rest of the world, we curled up on her berth. She absently ran her fingers up and down the slats of my chest vents as her optics stared off into the distance. I felt more relaxed than I had in vorns… only the lingering presence in my Spark cast a shadow over my happiness.

I'd never truly considered bonding with anyone. When I'd lived in Iacon, I'd thought that no one would ever want to be seen with me, let alone love me. Once I'd joined the Decepticons it had become a luxury that I could not afford. I'd been too busy to think of it, when all I had in the way of romance were my visits with Apis and my physical relationship with Ramrod.

Fifteen long vorns with Ratbat had given me plenty of time to dwell on it. When I'd thought that I would never see Apis again—or Ramrod—I'd wished that I had bonded when I'd had the chance.

Now I had the chance again.

"Apis?"

"Mmm?" she hummed by way of reply, smiling up at me. I suddenly wished that I had rehearsed what I was going to say.

"I, um… you know how much you mean to me." Slag, that hadn't sounded right. She probably thought that there was a "but" lurking ahead. "I really… what I'm trying to say is…"

_Start over, Nova._

I shifted and sat up; Apis moved back to let me. I took her hands.

"I love you," I said. "It almost killed me to lose you once, and I never want to go through that again. I don't want to put you through it either. I want to be with you always… to share everything with you. I don't have much to give you… there isn't much left in my Spark but pain. Maybe it's selfish, but I still… I hope you will help me."

Apis squeezed my hands, her smile gentle and her optics bright. "Of course," she answered. "Of course I will, Nova."

She kissed me again, and I heard the click of the release on her chestplates. I opened my own chest, watching in awe as the blue shades of our Sparks blended together. How beautiful her Spark was, how different from the hot blue-white of Ratbat's. Just the thought of it almost made me slam my chestplates shut. My memories of Ratbat's hungry Spark devouring mine still haunted me. Doubt began to creep up on me. What if this didn't work? What if we couldn't bond, if my Spark decided that it had had enough? Or, worse, what if some part of Ratbat transferred to Apis?

Apis noticed my hesitation and must have guessed some of the reason. Her gentle hand on my cheek brought me out of my thoughts. "It's all right," she assured me. "Everything will be fine."

Before my doubts could grow worse, she leaned forward to merge our Sparks.

Immediately I felt warm—infinitely better than touching Ratbat's Spark. Instead of ravenous, Apis was gentle, careful. Her feelings washed over me, holding me in a protective embrace. This merge was deeper than our last. I saw through Apis's optics, lived her life through her memories: the love and caring of her first home, her creators, the way they had taught and shaped her. I answered with my memories of Optimus, his lessons, the peace I had felt around him. The memories, hers and mine, became ours, a time of remembered innocence.

I met Shortstop along with her, someone who had become closer than a brother to her. I understood him, how protective he was of her—she was worth protecting—and that he didn't truly _dislike _me, because I made Apis happy. All that I could give in return was the prejudice of Iacon, my classmates who had shunned me. I felt a wave of sympathy and comfort.

We exchanged our first memories of Decepticons. From Apis, it was a mech called Barricade and his termination in the Altihex riots. I felt how profoundly this had affected her, inspiring her to become a Neutral. I gave her memories of flight as Starscream had taught me: freedom, weightlessness, seeing more of Cybertron from high above than most mechs ever did. My other memories of Starscream slipped in as well, positive and negative alike, all the things that had made me admire him and hate him in turns. Along went Skywarp and Thundercracker, the way I'd felt after the blue Seeker's termination. I gave her the memories that Starscream had given me at his death.

Without hesitation, I showed her my memories of Ramrod. Even the ones from the berth, but most of them were of sparring or simply of being together. Then the uncertainly, the mistrust after his revelation. From her I felt sorrow and consolation, followed by deep thoughtfulness, but soon enough she answered with some memories of Steelcrusher.

In exchange for my memories of Kaon, of wartime, battles, she gave me her peaceful, happy life here in Khalkon, comfort and happiness. The love and protection of her extended family warmed our combined Sparks.

Hardest of all to show her was my time with Ratbat, all the anguish he'd put me through. I hated that she had to feel it as well, through me. Apis must have sensed this, for her Spark pulsed reassuringly within mine.

_It's all right_, she seemed to say. _I'm strong. We can withstand this together._

He was there, suddenly, his dark, slimy feeling invading our bond, testing our limits, our connection.

_Did I give you permission to let someone else into our bond? _Ratbat purred.

_This is not a bond, _I answered angrily, feeling Apis's hands squeeze mine again. _And I never gave _you_ permission to interfere in my Spark._

_A slave need not give his master permission for anything. _I saw him smirking at me as clearly as though he sat before me. The remnants of his Spark burned painfully, sending memories of sadistic enjoyment. Beyond the overwhelming, tiny world of Sparkmerge, I felt myself trembling.

_But perhaps I do not object to the situation. You Seekers bond in threes, after all. _A whirl of satisfaction pulsed from him, anticipation. _How kind of you to give me her Spark as well._

_I don't think so, _Apis answered. I felt the strength that was necessary to survive as a Neutral emanating from her. She didn't need me to protect her. _You can't harm me and I won't let you hurt my bondmate any more!_

Her sheer force of will sent Ratbat cowering, shrinking back under her assault. I added my strength to hers, rebelling against the unwelcome invader, and together we pressed him back, squeezing him into a tiny corner, silencing his angry hisses.

Exhausted, we dragged apart, our Spark chambers sliding closed as our intakes cycled rapidly. I pressed a curious hand to my cockpit. It felt, to a lesser degree, as though we were still merged—which, in a way, we were. I could _feel_ Apis, the satisfaction radiating from her, the happiness, the warmth.

The femme snuggled up against me, helm bumping against my chin. For the first time since my return from Kalis, the close contact didn't make me flinch. Enjoying my newfound freedom, I wrapped my arms around her.

"Is he…" Apis touched my canopy, looking up hopefully at me. I searched my Spark. There was still a dark, cold place, far removed from the warmth of our bond.

"Still there…" Her face fell, and I hastened to add, "…but I don't think he's as strong as before. We've pushed him back."

"I'm sorry, Nova," she said regretfully. "I wasn't strong enough."

I nuzzled her, stroking her helm. I knew she wasn't a warrior. "You've done more than enough. Thank you."

For a time we lay in silence. I offlined my optics, lazily petting the wheel on Apis's back. I hadn't felt this peaceful in vorns, and I planned to thoroughly enjoy it before the inevitable return of my worries—the war, the Autobots, everything. Apis's engine purred contentedly.

I'd almost fallen into recharge when she finally stirred, reaching up to touch my faceplates, tracing once more the seam stretching from my optic to my jaw.

"Nova?"

"Hmm?"

She waited until I was looking at her. "I'm worried about you." She didn't need to tell me; I felt it pulsing from her Spark. "You need to learn to trust again. Your mechs need you back… all of you. Skywarp needs you more than ever now that both of his mates are… he shouldn't be all alone."

I answered her concern with a kiss on the cheek. "I trust my troops. They know that. And I'll do my best to take care of Skywarp."

She still frowned. I tried my best to send her a sense of calm reassurance through our bond, but she didn't show any sign of cheering.

"Nova," she began quietly, "I think… I _know _you can trust Ramrod."

Of all the topics for her to bring up, I hadn't expected him. "How can you be so sure?"

Apis gave me an amused, exasperated look. "Nova, please. You're a wonderful, sweet mech, but sometimes you can be a bit thick. Ever since you met him Ramrod has made it so obvious. You'll never find a better friend than that. His word against Ratbat's! Who would you rather trust?"

I stared at the ceiling. I wanted to trust him. My Spark _ached_ with the urge to trust him. Now that my processor was clear, my Spark almost free of Ratbat's taint, it seemed so simple.

"When you go back to Kaon, you have to talk to him. Please."

"I miss him," I admitted.

"You'll talk to him?"

"I'd like to."

"You'll talk to him?" Apis pressed again. "Do you promise?"

"Yes, I promise. I'll talk to him."

The cyclefemme beamed up at me. "You'll feel better, Nova. Trust me."

* * *

With great reluctance, I left Khalkon as night fell. The remaining presence of Apis in my Spark kept me in a good mood; I even indulged in some aerial acrobatics, something I hadn't done just for fun since long before Kalis. Suddenly everything seemed to hold joy once more—I remembered the first time I'd flown without Starscream's hands steadying me, the pleasure I found in the sky. Flight had been my creator's greatest gift to me, and perhaps sometime far, far in the future, when war was a thing of the past, I might lead my own sparkling into the sky.

In a reminder of her now-constant company, I felt an answering wave of _happiness-love_ from Apis and smiled, doing another barrel roll.

Most mechs had retreated to their quarters for recharge when I returned, but all those whom I passed in the halls seemed to recognize that something had changed. Their greetings were less hesitant, less careful. I returned them gratefully, stopped by my quarters for an energon cube—the orn's activities had left me tired—and headed down to the training grounds.

He was there, just as I'd known he always was at the end of each orn, attacking a practice dummy with his usual single-minded ferocity. I loved to watch him fight. He was no hulking tank model, so he made up what he lacked in brute strength with cleverness and agility and determination. I'd never seen him lose a fight except once, to me, that first time we'd met, when my victory had been gained by luck on my part and overconfidence on his.

I waited until he had finished one complex series of moves before venturing a simple "Hello."

He turned at the sound of my voice and spotted me. For a moment he looked uncertain. I worried that my coldness might have turned him away from me.

"Hello," he answered. He looked just the way I remembered him, save for a new scar which he evidently hadn't wanted the medics to remove. Ramrod was strange that way sometimes, with a sense of honor which had led him to fight me without weapons.

There were so many things I wanted to say to him. Apologies, perhaps explanations, questions I wanted to ask, but I didn't know where to start. Instead, I asked, "Do you… do you want to spar?"

At first he said nothing. I feared that he might not accept, or worse, that he might not answer at all and simply turn away. But I had underestimated Ramrod again. He dropped into a fighting stance. "Why not?"

I readied myself, concerned that I may not be quite as successful as I had once been. Since my return I had sparred with Skywarp, but he had treated me like fragile glass.

Not so from Ramrod. His first strike had me reeling backwards, ducking the second blow.

"No need to go so easy on me," I managed as my gyros restabilized. A joke, for the first time since before Helex. Ramrod grinned a little bit wider and we continued. At first I flinched like a sparkling with each blow, but as the fight progressed I found my old skill returning, my former ease, a certain willingness to take the hits as they came, remembering how to properly twist and dodge, to roll when I fell, to absorb impacts.

None of this stopped me from finally crashing to the floor and staying there, vents whirring, covered in dents. I didn't feel beaten or defeated, as I had grown to with the Autobots. It was exhilarating.

"You've gotten rusty," Ramrod said, offering a hand to help me up. "Don't tell me we need to start all over again."

I reached up to grab his wrist and yank him to the ground. He fell with a startled yelp and a clang. "You've gotten complacent. You really never learn."

"Brat," he retorted, still smiling as he sat up. The small audience that had gathered chattered appreciatively to each other and to us. More than once, though I'd returned to Kaon decacycles ago, mechs touched my arm or shoulder and murmured, "Welcome back, Commander." Though the press of the others and the touch on my plating still made me uncomfortable (and always would), I accepted it, smiling back.

Once the other Decepticons had dispersed, I walked with Ramrod back to his quarters. He brought out energon cubes. As he drank, I asked uncertainly, "How are things with… you know. With you."

He turned his cube around and around in his hands, watching the fuel slosh about. "Much better now." He looked up, adding, "Hello, Nova."

I smiled back. "Hello, Torsion."

"Losing you was… hard. On both of us. But we both needed someone, so we resolved our differences. We get along well enough. Besides, I've been able to help with intelligence, since I knew something about the Autobot system." Torsion paused. "It's good to have you back, Nova. It hurt both of us, but I think I understand why you did it. Thank you for trusting us. You look different, by the way… happier." A shrewd look. "Did you finally visit Apis?"

"I… yes." Should I tell him? For some reason I felt reluctant, almost guilty. Why _shouldn't_ I tell him? Our relationship had always been purely physical. And yet where Torsion was involved, I didn't know what to say.

Torsion smiled. "I'm glad. It's good to see you opening up to us again."

I opened my mouth to tell him about bonding with Apis. They shifted from Torsion to Ramrod, the transition physical as well as internal. Ramrod held a different posture than Torsion, slightly more relaxed and confident.

"Do you… want to talk about anything?" he asked. "You don't have to tell me, if you don't want. But… well. We know how it is. You can talk to us."

I settled down further in my chair. Ramrod would understand when I told him. We had something more in common now: we had both endured the horrors of slavery.

It was easier to tell him than I had thought it would be. He listened attentively, expressing both sorrow and anger, sharing in my desire for revenge against the Autobots. After only a klik's hesitation, I told him about Ratbat's continued presence in my Spark, then about bonding with Apis.

"That aftface," he hissed angrily, referring to Ratbat. "I'd kill him, if I could."

Of course, he couldn't. The only way that Ramrod could help me destroy Ratbat was if we… and _that_ was a thought I couldn't pursue. Apis was my bondmate now, and that meant that I should keep Ramrod at a comfortable, friendly distance. Never mind the times he'd stood up for me or helped me or laughed with me. Never mind his smile. Never mind the way my Spark still pulsed slightly faster around him.

_What more do you need? _I berated it inwardly. _I've got a bondmate. Isn't that enough?_

"Nova?"

I realized I'd been staring into space. Simultaneously, I noticed how tired I was. All these decacycles without much recharge had exhausted me; that, coupled with Sparkmerge and a good spar, made me think I just might stay in recharge for a vorn.

"I'm fine," I answered. "Just tired. Sorry."

Ramrod smiled, and I sensed Torsion flickering behind his optics. "Thank you."

_Thank you for trusting us, _he meant. I smiled back.

"When I come out of recharge, we'll have work to do."

"Of course. The Senate still needs to be eradicated, for you and Starscream."

I left him, feeling better than I had in a long time. My berth looked inviting and I sank gratefully onto it.

My bond with Apis pulsed a faint twinge of _love-affection-love_. Over time the bond would strengthen, I knew from some of the Autobot bondmates I had known. I sent an answering surge, staring up at the ceiling.

After several cycles of thought, I offlined my optics and drifted into recharge. For the first time in vorns, my dreams were light and pleasant, dreams of Apis, of Ramrod, of the sky, of flight and freedom.


	29. Reckoning

**A/N: **I'm getting major "Revenge of the Sith" vibes from this... you'll see why later. Enjoy!

* * *

**29. Reckoning**

* * *

According to my chronometer, I'd been in recharge for six megacycles. I felt _wonderful_. My processor was clear, and I reflected on the new goal of the Decepticons: complete rule of Cybertron.

Some good had come of my slavery under Ratbat. My old idealism, my foolish naïveté, had been scoured away. Before, I had been blinded by lingering affection for Optimus Prime, reluctance to harm those with whom I had once lived. Their actions against me, against all Decepticons—Starscream's death—had proven Megatron right. The Autobots didn't deserve to dominate Cybertron with their hypocrisy and cruelty. I would finish the work begun by my creator, but I would never be like him. Unlike him, I would succeed.

Some of my violent emotions must have reached Apis, for I felt a faint question in my Spark. I sent back only reassurance. No need to distress my bondmate. I would win for her a world of peace.

I drank a cube of energon and went through the washracks. Refreshed, I set off for the command center, sending out a request for the generals to join me. I arrived first and had time to look over supplies, something I had been too distracted to do lately. For once, we didn't face a shortage of energon, thanks to our refineries. Starscream had set our Autobot captives to work after all.

Once the command team had gathered, I listened attentively to all reports. Soundwave, the last to go, informed us in his usual monotone of massed Autobot forces in Gygax and the ruins of Tyrest, straying close to the border of Uraya, the least well-defended of the Decepticon territories. It was likely that an attack would not be far behind.

I mulled this over. "We'll meet them. Or, better, we'll hit them first. Oil Slick just completed another batch of sabot rounds." I turned to Shockwave. "Do we have sufficient workers in the refineries?"

"A surplus, in fact."

"Then we have no need for prisoners. Am I understood?"

Everyone nodded except for Skywarp, who frowned in uncharacteristic thoughtfulness, but he didn't speak.

"Excellent. Soundwave, I assume that you've pinpointed the location of another Senator?"

He had. I authorized the air strike, which concluded our meeting. I paced around the command center once the rest had left, wondering why things couldn't move faster. Every wasted cycle postponed our victory. The rest simply lacked my motivation. Very well, I would have to wait. Mobilizing troops took time. There were things to do while they prepared, after all, like taking two trines of fast, powerful Seekers for the assassination.

Obliterating another blubbering Senator did nothing to ease my mood. It wasn't enough—even if I had destroyed the lot in one fell swoop, something made impossible because the Senate had been too terrified to come into session since Ratbat's termination, I doubted it would have helped me. How many remained? Still enough to do some damage, and they grew more difficult to track by the orn, even for Soundwave.

I planned to send a message at Uraya's border, showing how the playing field had changed. The Autobots had planned for an all-out assault, intended to drive into Uraya and Trypticon and through there to Kaon, the core of Decepticon territory. They had brought in their heavy artillery and their toughest fighters. They had even prepared marginally well for an aerial assault. I wished that Starscream were still with me. He would know the best way to counter such a move. I took Skywarp and we pored through the Archives, searching out memories of ancient battles, finding strategies.

I recharged badly before we finally set off for the border. I ordered our fliers into position, then angled in with Skywarp at my side, aiming for the heavy cannons.

Thinking of Starscream's death, dedicating myself to his memory, drastically improved my performance in the air. It helped that I was no longer held back by my old weaknesses. We didn't need more prisoners.

I _had_ to do this. For Starscream—and to avenge my own slavery.

The warmth from the explosions below swept through me, intoxicating, sending a shiver through my plating. It felt wonderful to let loose, to reach my full, deadly potential.

_/Aerial units, hit the main force. Ground troops, capture those cannons,/ _I ordered. _/By any means necessary._/ I signaled Skywarp. _/Lead the fliers. I'll join the groundlings this time./_

_/As you command,/ _he answered. I detected a hint of resentment in his signal, but I had no time to speak to him further.

I landed hard atop an Autobot, slamming my thrusters into his faceplates as I drew my one remaining sword, its partner lost at Helex. Perhaps some Autobot scum had claimed it as a trophy. I would reclaim it soon, I vowed. Nothing would stand in my way.

Only when I nearly ran into one of the cannons did I realize that the Autobots had either retreated or been killed. The fighting continued nearby.

"Secure these," I ordered the mechs around me.

_/Commander./_ It was Stryka calling over the comm line. _/Ze Autobots are falling back./_

_/Pursue them./_

_/Commander, the troops need rest,/ _Trannis replied. I checked my chronometer in disbelief. Megacycles had passed? I felt no twinge of fatigue, but checking my fuel levels, I found that they had dropped into the red levels.

_/Hold position,/ _I snapped finally. _/We'll continue tomorrow./_

* * *

At the close of the third orn of fighting, the command channel was pinged by a signal from the Autobots. I recognized the code—parley.

"What do you think?"

"It could be a trick," I murmured thoughtfully. Flamewar shook her head.

"Those Autobots wouldn't know a trick if it bit them in the aft."

"Even so, if you plan to speak with them you'd best take someone along," Trannis put in. "Lugnut, perhaps?"

"I'll go," Ramrod answered. I spared him a smile—I would feel better with Ramrod at my side.

I responded to the Autobot signal and received a set of coordinates. Ramrod and I scouted out the area, then approached. The Autobot general, plated in blue with a bronze Senate insignia on his shoulder, sat at a low slab of metal. His lieutenants stood around him. I sank down across from him, feeling Ramrod step into place at my back. I knew he would be scanning the Autobots for threats.

"Commander Nova himself," the Autobot said. "I'd half thought you might send a lackey."

"I'm afraid I don't recognize you."

"Of course. I realize that you've been… away for several vorns." I forced myself to smile thinly. "General Modus, appointed by the Senate to command their forces."

I raised an optic ridge. "I was under the impression that the Prime commanded the Autobots."

It was Modus's turn to feebly disguise his annoyance. "Perhaps once. I follow only the Senate."

"What's left of it," I couldn't resist pointing out.

"It's enough."

"I'm not interested in pleasantries or whom you're working for," I told him flatly. "I'm here to negotiate the terms of your surrender."

"Surrender?" Modus repeated.

I narrowed my optics impatiently. "For three orns your army has been taking heavy losses. We've captured most of your cannons and you haven't advanced more than a few hundred astrometers. If this battle drags on, you're bound to lose."

The Autobot leaned forward. "I believe you overestimate your chances."

"Don't be a fool. Your mechs may have limits to their loyalty. How long will they continue following your orders when they're being decimated?"

"Deserting is for Decepticons… as is disloyalty. In the end your mechs look only after themselves."

"It sounds as though you've been reading too much propaganda."

Modus narrowed his optics and sat back, raising a hand to brush casually at his shoulder. "Your arrogance will be the end of you."

It could have been one of many things that saved me: the flash at the top of a nearby spire, the movement of Modus's hand, Ramrod's watchfulness. On instinct I shoved myself back from the metal slab and felt Ramrod's hands on my shoulders, pulling me further aside.

A scorch mark appeared on the slab, raising a wisp of smoke. I shoved off from the ground before the shot had finished echoing, igniting my thrusters and soaring to the top of the spire. The sniper was unprepared, staring at me in shock; I bowled him over, dragging him along behind me on the way to the ground. Ramrod had incapacitated one of the Autobots and pinned another. Modus looked at once stunned and furious as I landed, shoving one of my cannons under the sniper's chin.

"I believe this belongs to you," I hissed, processor seething with rage. "Who authorized this?"

"My orders come from the Senate," Modus replied. I clenched my fists, preparing my arm-rifle.

"They ordered this?" I urged angrily. He didn't reply. I glared at him, wrath forcing my Spark into a frenzy. The Autobots had tried to kill me many times, but never with a ploy so underhanded. Did they not see that each attempt only pushed me further?

I would show them.

I fired and let the sniper's frame fall. "You have six megacycles," I hissed. "Six megacycles to leave Decepticon territory in peace. After that—" I kicked the grey frame. "—we send you back in pieces."

I whirled and stalked off, hearing Ramrod let go of the Autobot he held and follow me. After relaying my ultimatum to the rest of the command team, I took off into the sky, hoping to alleviate my frustration in the air.

* * *

Once the Autobots had fallen back to Gygax and the rim of the Rust Sea, I made a trip to Khalkon, braving the dust to visit my bondmate. The change in Apis since my last visit was remarkable: she'd obviously cleaned herself up, repairing her accumulated damage, replacing slightly-rusted parts, and getting a fresh coat of bright orange paint. The sight of her sparkling chassis and the smile on her face made me laugh and hoist her up into my arms, spinning her around. I felt her joy as my own.

"It's so good to see you," she whispered happily, before taking me by the hand and leading me upstairs to her room. "When we heard about the battle at Uraya, I was so worried… even though I knew you weren't hurt."

I stayed with her for the night, recharging while she nestled into me with her fingers curled into the gap under my shoulder plating. I woke first; though I would have liked to remain in this warm and comfortable position, I knew I needed to leave soon. Sighing regretfully, I shifted just enough to move Apis off of me, sitting up and gazing out of her window at the small, dusty settlement.

I wondered whether I would ever be able to live peacefully, like the Neutrals here, without worrying about battles and death. Dark resentment of the Autobots bubbled up in my Spark.

Apis stirred behind me, murmuring softly as she woke. A moment later her arms wrapped around me from behind. "Nova? Are you all right?"

"I need to leave." I didn't want Apis to worry, so I tried something I'd never done before: I blocked my feelings from escaping across our bond, narrowing the connection to spare her the anger. Apis's Spark was so pure; I didn't want to sully it with my hatred.

She frowned, moving so I could see her face. "Nova, if something's the matter, you can tell me."

"I know. I'm fine, Apis. Don't worry about me," I soothed, giving her what I hoped was a comforting smile. I felt a questioning probe from her Spark and evaded it, instead sending calm reassurance.

Apis's frown deepened. "Don't hide it from me. I can help you, Nova, don't shut me out. Isn't that why you bonded with me? We're supposed to share _everything_ now, even the difficult things."

Anxiety pressed at me; I had to return to Kaon, to plan our next attack. I stood up. "It isn't your burden to bear."

"Don't you trust me?"

Something in Apis's voice made me look at her, taking one of her hands and turning her face up from where she stared at my pedes, pressing my mouthplates briefly to hers. "Of course I do."

I sent her an embarrassed apology across our bond, gently unwinding our hands. "I can't stay."

She nodded, looking again at my pedes. "Be safe."

"I will." After a moment's hesitation, I added, "I miss your smile."

"I miss _you_," she murmured back, almost too softly to hear.

"I'm right here."

Apis didn't reply.

* * *

When I went down to the training grounds, Ramrod was waiting for me.

"During that battle at Uraya, you were amazing," he told me. "I've never seen you fight like that. Do you think you could do it again?"

"I could try," I answered, ducking into a ready position.

As usual, I landed flat on my back, cursing vividly.

"No, that's not quite it," Ramrod snickered, helping me up. "How did you do it last time?"

"I don't know." I sighed and tried to clear my processor. "Let's try again."

I blocked his first punch. The Autobots… the Senate. Ratbat. What gave them the right to enslave us? They disgusted me. Their hypocrisy, their twisted morals… I hated it. I hated them.

It came as a complete shock when I heard the clang of metal on the floor and realized that it was _Ramrod _on his back, that I had pinned him with a knee on his chest and the end of my arm-rifle jammed under his chin. I scrambled up with a gasp, the shock dousing my fury.

"Ramrod, I… I'm sorry!"

"For what?" he managed, coughing and rubbing his throat. "That was amazing. Do you want to try it again?"

"No. I could have killed you!"

"Not a chance," Ramrod answered, but his optics were uncertain. I stared anywhere but at him. I hadn't meant to lose control, and I certainly hadn't intended to hurt my friend.

"How did you do that?"

"I don't know. I'll only do it on the Autobots."

"I'd appreciate that," he laughed, but he still looked disturbed. He wasn't the only one; I saw Skywarp watching us with alarm.

"What's wrong with you?" I asked him.

"What's wrong? Nova, you don't even realize it?"

"Realize what?"

"Come with me." Skywarp grabbed my arm and pulled me through the halls, refusing to stop or answer my questions. Ramrod followed us, equally concerned about the other Seeker's actions.

We entered the Archives, then the Hall of Memory. Skywarp pushed me down before a console, linking both of us into it. Almost immediately, I was immersed in one of Skywarp's old memories. I recognized it from some old holo-vids I'd studied when I'd first arrived in Kaon. It was a gladiatorial match, and I recognized one of the contestants—a tall silver mech with my face.

Megatron fought ferociously, to the delight of the cheering crowd. Skywarp and I watched as he overpowered his opponent, another bulky tank-type, tearing him apart with fierce joy.

"See anything familiar?" Skywarp asked. I watched Megatron crush the other mech's Spark chamber. The audience roared out its approval. "I do."

"What, exactly, are you trying to say?"

Skywarp disconnected us. "I thought you wanted to _avoid_ becoming Megatron. That's what you said back then."

"Back then I was a fool. Megatron was strong. I would be proud to be the kind of fighter that he was."

Skywarp opened his mouth to respond, but I held up my hand to stop him. I didn't want to argue with him, not now.

* * *

Frustrated beyond relief, I divided my time in the coming decacycles between fighting Autobots and planning our next attack. Again I began to spend less time in recharge, but passion kept me running through the long orns. Every orbit, I led a strike force of Seekers and bombers, hitting targets deep in Autobot territory. We aimed for mines, refineries, supply lines, anything that might hamper their war effort and keep the populace in hiding. The Autobots attempted further offensives, few of which showed much progress.

"They're not using their truly effective leadership," Shockwave explained. "These generals are mechs we've never seen before."

"Flunkies of the Senate, most likely," Ramrod said, Trannis nodding in agreement.

"This speaks of some power struggle," Shockwave continued. "Prime and his officers are by far the most successful, but we encounter these forces less and less. The Senate is attempting to overshadow the Prime. This confusion among the Autobots presents an opportunity, as long as the Senate continues to keep their best commanders from the field."

"Commander, news from the front." It was one of Soundwave's cassettes, the red one, though I could not remember whether this was Rumble or Frenzy. Soundwave himself was in Polyhex. "And it's big. The boss says that there's been a surprise attack on Polyhex. Not the biggest army we've ever fought, but they're _good_, and they've already pushed us back to the equator. Prime's commanding them."

"Ready the troops and send out advance scouts. We must gather what troops we can spare." If we lost Polyhex, the Autobots would have easy access to Tarn; because of its huge border, we couldn't patrol all of it at once. "Quickly. We need to start sending mechs out now."

I hurried to my quarters for a quick cube of energon, which I had almost finished when Skywarp entered.

"Nova, you need to rethink this."

"Rethink what?" I answered, running through a systems check. "They're attacking us. We need to counter."

"In this strength? Nova, I know what you're up to. Don't do this."

I double-checked my arm rifles. "The Autobots need to learn what we will and will not take. Prime abandoned me to them. I owe him nothing. He is my enemy now."

"You can't be serious! Nova, that's the mech who raised you. I understand that you're angry. You have every right to hate the Senate, but not Prime. It wasn't his fault."

"Whose side are you on?" I snapped, rounding on him.

"Yours!" Skywarp answered desperately, grabbing my arm. "We're trine, Nova. You have to _listen_ to me!"

I pushed away, backing towards the door. "I'm not your trine. I never was."

* * *

The fighting at Polyhex was thick. Soundwave's information had been correct; these Autobots were the Prime's elite, the best of the best. Somehow this gave me an extra surge of satisfaction each time I cut one down.

_This is for peace. For us, Apis._

Someone pinged my comm. _/Commander, Prime is here./_

_/Where?/_

I followed the coordinates and saw him below, battling my Decepticons. There could be no mistaking him. My intakes cycled faster—at last, after all this time, there would be a reckoning.

_/Fall back,/_ I commed all Decepticons in the area. _/Leave Prime to me. Ensure that no Autobots interfere./_

Robbed of any other opponents, Optimus turned just as I landed, blaster aimed. His blue optics widened when he saw me and he half lowered his weapon.

"Nova!"

"Prime. I was wondering when you would finally show yourself. Were you worried that you would share the fate of most of the Senate?"

Optimus took two steps forward. Though his battle mask remained raised, I knew that he frowned. "In these past decacycles I've seen a side of you that I never knew existed. I could tell you how many Autobots you've killed if I thought that it would affect you. _Civilians_, Nova. Innocents!"

"I think I might cry," I shot back.

"Why are you doing this? It's not like you!"

"How do you know what I'm like?" I hissed. "Fifteen _vorns_ you left me there. Slavery changes one, Prime."

"I…"

"You _abandoned_ me. You gave me to him! Nothing you say can change that."

"You know that isn't true," Optimus answered, softer this time. I could sense his guilt. "I would never—"

"I suffered while you were trying to play nice with the Senate. You have no idea what it was like there! But I know the truth now. All your talk about justice… freedom for all sentient beings… it's a lie."

"You sound like Megatron," Optimus replied sorrowfully, grip tightening on his blaster. "Starscream succeeded after all."

He reached into his subspace. I tensed for an attack, but instead of the weapon I'd expected, he drew out the sword I'd given up for lost and tossed it in my direction. I caught it, confused.

"You must be held accountable for the destruction you have wreaked," Optimus told me slowly, as though each word pained him. "For those you have killed and for the planet I swore to protect, you must be stopped. If I must fight you…" He put his blaster away. In its place, his rarely-used energy blades slid out from his wrists as his hands folded aside. I had seen these only through memories kept in the Archives. "…then it will be on equal terms."

"So you betray me again," I said, readying Megatron's swords.

"You have betrayed yourself," Optimus answered, and I attacked.

Prime moved faster than I had expected, catching me off-balance. My reflexes saved me; even the legendary weapons of the Prime could not easily cut through my swords. Planning to take advantage of his lesser agility, I propelled myself from the ground, flipping in midair—a trick I had learned from Starscream—to strike at his unprotected back. Optimus twisted to avoid it.

This wasn't like my duel with Starscream—I could and did exploit my ability to take to the air, avoiding his blows. I could turn a long-range fight to my advantage, since Prime would need to switch back to at least one hand to draw his blaster. Unfortunately, Prime seemed to realize this as well. Doubtless he'd fought against airborne mechs before. With a leap, he evaded the shots I fired in his direction and swiped at me. I tried to rise safely out of reach, but one blade clipped my pede with sufficient force to send me spinning.

My momentary loss of control allowed Prime to slash at me again. I darted out of the way, having regained my bearings, and landed a solid hit on his shoulder. Aside from jerking with the shot's momentum, Prime showed no outward sign of injury. His armor was thicker than mine, and though this impeded his movements, it would make him difficult to wound.

Reversing my grip on my swords to keep them out of the way, I continued to fire on my opponent. I knew that Prime couldn't possibly dodge all of them. He staggered as a slug struck him; excited by this small victory, I dropped into a pedes- first dive, aiming to burn his face with my thrusters.

Instead, my exhilaration disappeared in a flash as his huge hand closed around one of my pedes with crushing strength and threw me to the ground. I both heard and felt my cockpit glass shatter, some of the shards lodging painfully in my wiring. Pushing the pain away, I hoisted myself up just in time to block a heavy blow from both energy blades.

"Give up, Nova," he said. His voice revealed no sign of exertion, though my struts ached. "I do not wish to harm you further. Surrender."

"And let them make me a slave again?" I hissed. "Never."

Prime continued to attack, driving me backwards as I barely parried the glowing blades. My pede twinged with more and more pain each time I rested my weight on it; an alert blinked in the corner of my visual field, alerting me that my right thruster had been disabled. I was grounded.

Fear flickered in my Spark. Fighting against Ramrod was one thing, dueling Starscream had pushed me to my limits, but Prime was different. I was out of my depth. I couldn't even focus my fury on him as I had before, to other Autobots… my Spark wouldn't let me.

The idea of defeat in battle at the hands of an Autobot had never occurred to me. The thought that I might even be terminated filled me with dread.

Now that Optimus had me on the defensive, he fought harder, bringing his massive strength to bear. I started to miss parries, resulting in deep, sparking gashes across my armor. More alerts flashed at me.

Prime locked blades with me and twisted, sending one of my swords spinning from my hands. His next slash cut across my arm, severing the neural lines there. I switched my remaining weapon to my good arm, tripping backwards. Desperate to take the offensive, I tried to attack. Instead, a blow to my helm knocked me back, followed by a slash across my torso. One of my optics went dark, sending my vision into static before I boosted power to the other.

I heard a crack as Prime landed a crippling blow on my leg. I fell onto my back, coughing to clear energon from my intakes. Prime kicked away my remaining sword. I brought up my arm to fire at him, but his energy blade whistled through the air and I screamed as my arm vanished from my sensory network. I couldn't bear to look.

Alarms continued to flash on my screen, reports of intense damage, but I was barely conscious of them. I could hardly make out Prime's face through my dimmed optic; the battle mask rendered it cold and impersonal. I couldn't see the hands that had lifted me as a sparkling—they were concealed in his wrists, replaced by blades.

"I hoped that it would never come to this," I heard him say. I couldn't shutter my optics as he raised his weapons for the final blow. My body tensed automatically, ready for the burning pain.

Instead, there was a furious shriek and Prime stumbled backwards under a barrage of laser fire. I heard the sound of turbines and a Seeker landed, crouching over me protectively.

"Don't you touch him, Prime!"

He turned to gather me up in his arms, his face indistinct in my darkening vision. I tried to focus.

"S-Star…?"

The world swirled around us; I realized dimly that this hadn't been my processor malfunctioning, but the usual disorientation following teleportation. "Warp," I corrected myself with the last of my energy. I vaguely saw blurred shapes moving around us, heard his voice as though from a great distance.

"Hang on, Nova. We're getting you help. Hang on."

The strain was too much, the energon loss too great. The last thing I registered was the clack of my helm hitting Skywarp's chest armor as I shut down.


	30. Reaching Out

**A/N: **Some of this is written by Lemur, a bit in the middle and some near the end. Enjoy!

* * *

**30. Reaching Out**

* * *

I remained in the dark of emergency stasis for some time. My processor, half-active, tormented me with nightmarish visions, some memories and some pure invention. Phantom shapes moved around me. I teetered back and forth between nightmares: pain and despair, Ratbat's hated touch ghosting over of my plating, slipping into my circuitry; gentle and caring hands becoming rough and painful, squeezing with crushing strength—made all the worse by the awareness of betrayal. Anguish.

For the first time I felt lost. I had always had such a clear idea of where I was going, what to do next. I had wanted freedom for the Decepticons—I still did. But how was I to get there? I had been thwarted at every turn… I had tried a more peaceable approach and my reward had been slavery. Yet when I attempted a firm offensive, I had been defeated by the one mech I had thought might understand me, might sympathize with me.

Was it hopeless? Were the Autobots just too powerful to defeat? They had made it clear that sharing Cybertron, accepting the Decepticons as equals and living in peace, was impossible. Was the war destined to drag on until not a single Cybertronian was left—or until Cybertron herself was torn apart?

I had wanted this. I had volunteered for it, too young and naïve to realize what it would mean to join this war, that I would be stripped of everything. How could anyone _want _this?

Reports from all of my systems informed me that the recovery process had been long and arduous: my left arm had been completely replaced, and extensive repairs had been needed on my other limbs. The wiring beneath my cockpit still stung as the self-repair mended the damage done by the shattered glass.

Worse than the physical damage was the memory of my battle with Optimus. The knowledge that he would have done whatever it took to stop me—that he would have killed me—pained me more than any of the wounds.

When I awoke, it was dark. The only sounds I heard in the medbay were faint rustling and beeping, the sounds of other wounded Decepticons shifting slightly in recharge and the repetitive electronic noises of the other, nonsentient machines. Aside from the indicator lights and readouts on those same machines, the glow of my optics was the only illumination.

Sprawled out on a chair beside me, recharging lightly, was Skywarp. My Spark gave a twinge of gratitude and guilt—had he stayed with me all this time? He'd saved me on the battlefield, even after the way I'd treated him. After those horrible things I'd said to him, after everything, here he was.

As if he sensed me watching, Skywarp woke with a start, giving his head a brisk shake to clear his processor.

"Nova?" he muttered sleepily, optics flickering on and off before brightening fully. "You're awake?"

"Hey, Warp," I managed.

"I'm so glad I got to you in time. I thought he'd…" He broke off, and I realized that he was trying to skirt around a painful subject. He acted so cheerful all the time, lived with such energy that he seemed to bounce back quickly from everything. But did he really? I'd never thought about it before, never stopped to think about what Skywarp truly felt. In all of my self-pity, I'd barely tried to sympathize with him, and he'd lost everything too.

"Skywarp, I…"

"It's great that you're all right. The Structies say that you should be up and about in an orn or two."

"Warp, listen," I broke in. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. What I said… before Polyhex… I wasn't myself. I didn't mean it. Can you forgive me?"

Skywarp smiled. "That's what wingmates do. We're all we've got now."

"I wouldn't want anyone else as my trine," I told him. "I know I can't replace Thundercracker and Starscream… no one can. But I don't want you to feel alone. I'll try to be there for you. If there's any way I can make up for what I said… what you've done for me…"

"We're trine. It's gotta be hard for you, not growing up with other Seekers like we did. But I'll teach you all about being in a trine. It's something you'll have to learn on the fly, though."

"I can do that," I answered, my Spark swelling in joy. For the first time, I didn't feel out of place, as though I'd been put into a trine to fill an empty slot. This was something of my own.

"Did I ever tell you how I met TC?"

"I'd like to hear that."

* * *

The battle at Polyhex had been a defeat, though not as humiliating as it might have been. Our withdrawal made Polyhex the only major Autobot presence in the southern hemisphere, but its loss still meant that we would face a difficult struggle. Between this and the Neutral states of Praxus and Kalis, the Autobots would have access to virtually all of Tarn's northern border, a stretch far too wide to defend fully.

If we could convince the Neutrals to hold their territory and forbid any advance through their cities, the task of defending Tarn would be much easier. I volunteered to seek their aid myself; not only did I have certain connections in the Neutral community, but I could also use the excuse to visit Apis.

Skywarp flew beside me as we headed for Khalkon, chattering over our comms. I listened with one audio. I should get used to Skywarp talking. He was my wingmate, and I had to accept everything about him, good and bad, helpful and annoying. My talkative wingmate.

Since my awakening, Skywarp had related more about his past with Thundercracker and Starscream than my creator had told me in two and a half centivorns. I had worried that talking about them might prove too painful for Skywarp, but if anything, he seemed to grow even more cheerful and enthusiastic. Perhaps speaking of them comforted him, kept the happy memories near to his Spark.

I let Skywarp do the talking; I needed the time to think about my next move. Clearly the Autobots had decided to play rough. My Spark still surged with anger and hatred at the thought of the Autobots reigning over the planet, but my fight with Optimus had left me with doubts.

The connection between us had let Apis know I was coming, so she had already arranged to be off shift when we arrived. Skywarp, with a sly wink, announced that he would spend the time elsewhere.

"So you two go off and make yourselves comfortable," he finished, giving me a shove in Apis's direction. The little femme giggled, taking my hand and pulling me upstairs to her room.

"It's so good to see you," she told me as soon as the door had closed behind her. Then she caught sight of my recent repairs and came closer, reaching out to touch some of the damage with gentle hands. "Oh, Nova… what happened? Was it Polyhex?"

"It was. Slagging Autobots."

I hardly noticed as she drew back, looking at me oddly; I thought again of the Autobots, of the Senate, of Prime… of what they had done to me, of everything that they had to pay for. Those niggling doubts that had surfaced during my recovery pestered me, weak suggestions of resuming a less aggressive style of warfare, of seeking a diplomatic solution, but I pushed them aside.

"They'll stop at nothing. They want to see us all dead, every one of them. Even those I thought were more rational… you can't trust an Autobot."

"Nova…"

"All they want is to rule this planet, and they don't care who is trampled along the way. The poor, the helpless, Decepticons, Neutrals, anyone is expendable. If only I'd seen it sooner, we wouldn't be in this mess."

"_Nova_."

"I should have let Starscream wipe them out! They all deserve to die for what they've done. For all the harm they've caused."

"Nova, listen to me!" I finally stopped ranting and looked at my furiously trembling bondmate. "_Listen_ to yourself," she pleaded, reaching up to brush her fingers against my cheek. "You don't really mean those things you're saying."

"Yes, I do," I snarled as I turned away from her, glaring out of the window at the passing crowds of dusty Neutrals. I gripped the windowsill and dug my claws in. "Autobots don't deserve to live. I was wrong to ever think otherwise. Idealistic drivel left over from my past. They will never see the error of their ways. The only way to be rid of them is to grind them into oblivion."

Silence.

Ice drifted across our bond; when Apis spoke, her voice was just as cold. "What about Optimus?" she asked pointedly. My wings twitched, the windowsill screaming as my grip warped it out of shape. "Will you kill the mech who raised you as his own? Ratchet? Jazz? What about those who used to be Autobots? Perceptor? Sidewall? How Autobot is Autobot enough to be killed for? Those whose mates are Autobots?"

"That's not the point," I hissed at her, but Apis's voice only rose.

"If you continue like this it will turn you into someone you're not. This hatred will twist you and distort you and will put the peace and equality you told me, told _everyone_ you wanted out of your reach forever."

"Stop."

"You'll start with those who wronged you personally, then those like them, then those that knew them. You'll turn to families, hurting bondmates to affect their bonded, sparklings to tear at their creators' Sparks."

"Shut _up_!"

"You'll start killing and you won't stop, your original goal lost, hating anything and everything associated with the Autobots… and out of all the Decepticons, you are more Autobot than any of them."

"_I said shut up!_" I spat, whirling and advancing on her. She did not retreat, stalking forward to look me accusingly in the optics.

"You're turning yourself into another Megatron!" she shouted, and the shock of her words made me step back and stare at her.

"You keep holding onto this hate," she whispered, optics never leaving mine, "and you will never achieve the equality you desire. You will _prove them right_ that Decepticons are violent brutes who need to be controlled, enslaved, and you will start your creators' cycle of hate and retribution all over again."

I reached for her, without violent intentions this time, but she jerked away. "You have lost sight of your goal, just like Megatron did, and you will become mired in senseless, endless killing, just as he was." Her voice was hollow and tired. "You'll prove the Autobots right and lose your chance at freedom for the Decepticons. And you will lose me."

I made a strangled noise of protest and reached for her again. My hand closed around her elbow but she shook me off.

"I fell in love with _you_, Nova! Not Megatron. You're always saying that you're not like him, well, then, prove it!"

"Are you saying I have no reason to hate them?" I hissed, hurt. Her words struck me hard, widening the cracks in my resolve that Optimus had opened. "You know what they did to me, what they've done to a countless number of Decepticons who were in my position. You _saw_ it through our bonding."

"I _despise_ Ratbat for what he did to you!" she cried. "But he's _dead_! There is no one left to hate! Let go. He can't hurt us anymore, but if you continue to hold onto your hate, if you let it warp you, then Ratbat wins, Nova!" Her intakes were hitching in distress. "And I don't want to lose you again. Not to him, not again."

Her optics finally dropped from mine. "You'll go somewhere I can't follow. It was horrible enough thinking that you were dead, but at least you were still _you_, and if this is what happened instead… then the Nova I knew, the one I wanted to bond with, died at Helex. This is not the mech I loved.

"_Please_, Nova! You've had your revenge. Defeat the Autobots by proving them _wrong_. Don't let this turn into another astrocycle of death. Please," she begged, before pulling back, looking at the floor as her handlebars twitched in towards her neck. "I don't want our sparklings to grow up surrounded by hate and violence. I want them to have a chance to _live_."

I stared at her with wide optics, feeling as though my gyros had all simultaneously flipped over, suddenly icy cold and blazing hot at once. "Sparklings?" I whispered weakly.

Apis smiled shakily. "Twins," she said.

"Two?" She nodded, mouthing the number back at me. I lunged at her, grabbing her arms. "When did you find out? Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I…" She wouldn't meet my optics. "Just the other orn. I didn't think you'd be so upset."

I let my hands fall in shock. Even through my daze I could feel the dark hate clenched around my Spark relaxing its grip. "Upset? Why would I be upset? This is… it's…" _Wonderful, amazing, a miracle, something I never expected…_

She peeked shyly up at me, a hesitant smile crossing her face. "You're… happy?"

I couldn't help but grin foolishly, sweeping her into a hug. "I am _overjoyed_," I answered, letting her feel it over our bond. I felt her answering relief.

"So… you'll stop this vendetta?" she asked. I hesitated. "For our sparklings. Don't turn into another Megatron… I don't want our sparklings to grow up around someone like him."

The steel in her optics reminded me that being a Neutral was a hard life, and the weak could not, did not, survive. However much it would hurt her, Apis would leave me if that was best for our sparklings.

Still, it was so much to ask… to let go, to… _forgive_ them.

_There is no one left to hate_.

I wasn't optimistic enough to believe that it could happen in a moment, or even an orn, even a vorn. But for her, and for the sparklings who had the right of freedom, I would try.

I drew her up to bury my face in her neck.

"I'm not losing you again," I whispered fiercely, and heard her elated cry as she wrapped her arms around my head and shoulders, clinging to me as she had when we were reunited.

* * *

Apis would have to come and live with me at Kaon; I had been obligated to tell certain trusted members of the command team that I had bonded, since it was a matter of security, and when I told Shockwave and Soundwave about the impending sparklings they insisted that my bondmate be placed under greater protection. Apis had protested, of course—it was difficult to leave a home, especially since it wasn't her own choice. Finally she relented, but only after I consoled her and promised Steelcrusher that I would care for her.

Having Apis share my quarters was wonderful; her presence seemed to brighten everything. I had ample opportunity to press close to her Spark and bask in the warmth and love I found there. I was still filled with wonder whenever I thought about it—somehow the two of us had created life, and someday soon I would see our sparklings, our twins.

But first I had other problems, and the largest was Optimus. I still wasn't entirely sure whether or not to forgive him. Surely he could have done more to help me during my long imprisonment, whatever the situation. But I had to show him that I was still his Nova. That I would no longer follow blindly after my creators, as I had once sworn I would not, but would show the Autobots that we were willing to live in peace.

"The Autobot, as requested."

This was the difficult part. Ironhide, after all, had very little reason to trust me, having been our prisoner since the assault on Trypticon.

"Thank you. You may leave us."

"Well, ain't you all high and mighty," the warrior drawled as the mech who had brought him in departed, leaving us alone save for Ramrod, who remained as a precaution. Ironhide wore stasis cuffs, but one could never be too careful when it came to such a legendary fighter.

"Hello, Ironhide," I answered with a wry smile.

"You think yer brave or something? Bringing me clear up here to gloat?"

"I didn't bring you here to gloat."

"I know what you've been up to and I ain't impressed," he snorted. "Thought Prime'd raised you better than that. Decepticon scum."

"You watch how you talk to him," Ramrod put in, scowling. Ironhide matched his expression.

"Or what, ya punk? Just like a Decepticon to take on someone in stasis cuffs."

"I'll give you a fight when you're good and ready. I'll even let you oil up your creaking joints first."

"Not now," I interrupted them, though I couldn't help but smile. Ramrod and Ironhide were surprisingly similar.

"What're you smirkin' at?" Ironhide growled. "Thinking of how many Autobots you killed in your last fight?"

"It's not like that… not anymore. That's why you're here." Ironhide looked suspicious. I decided to stop talking in riddles and set it all out. "I'm sending you back as a symbol of good faith. I need you to tell Prime that things have changed."

"I'm no messenger bot," he said, but he looked surprised all the same. "Whaddaya mean, things've changed?"

"I mean that I want to stop fighting."

"So it's surrender? I'm sure they'll all be happy to hear that."

"No. Tell Prime that he needs to take his power back, his real power, and convince the Autobots to open negotiations. If they won't, so be it. We will continue fighting until we achieve equality one way or the other."

"Grown a backbone, haven't you? And a Spark, maybe."

"I'll take that as your acceptance." I commed the mech outside. "You'll get safe passage back to Autobot territory. Of course, if you make any sudden moves, remember that you _are _in the center of Kaon."

"I ain't scared of yer goons, kid. 'Specially not the loudmouth punk over there."

"I'll show you, rustbucket!" Ramrod answered as the other Decepticon removed Ironhide's cuffs. The Autobot flexed his fists.

"Fergive me for not tremblin' in my boots."

I didn't know what a boot was, but both Ramrod and I let it slide.

* * *

I wondered whether Optimus would attempt to get word back to me once Ironhide arrived. It had been several orns since we had sent the warrior back, but no such message had yet appeared. Perhaps Optimus could never forgive me. Perhaps Ironhide or the return message had been intercepted. Perhaps the remnants of the Senate had hatched some nefarious plot to widen the rift between us just when I had reached out to close it.

There was no way of knowing, especially not when I was at the very outskirts of Kaon with half of the command team reviewing the slow construction of an energon refinery. I'd been especially twitchy the entire orn, aching for news.

My connection to Apis pulsed with _loveaffection_, followed by a brief flicker of Apis's whereabouts. She was close to the base at the city's center, in the crystal gardens. Nobody I asked was sure who had begun the work on the tiny garden, which was nothing compared to those in Praxus; I supposed someone long ago, some bored soldier with a scientific background, had begun the long, painstaking process of growing the crystals into exotic formations. The place had been abandoned, probably when its architect was killed in battle, and the bored Apis had declared it her project. For the orbits she'd been in Kaon, she had been hard at work, chipping away at the crystals until they resembled something close to the shapes they had been meant to follow.

I sent back an image of my location, as well as I could. Our bond was still solidifying, so I wasn't sure whether it came across properly. Still, I could strongly sense her Spark; soon our sparklings would be born, and with an experienced medic like Hook on hand everything would go smoothly, and then I would be a _creator_, with two more reasons to seek peace and equality.

Abruptly my bond with Apis was flung wide open and I stumbled as her feelings became mine—not the contentment and joyful anticipation of a moment before, but paralyzing terror and a glimpse of an Autobot insignia.

_Autobots? Here?_

But I couldn't pause to think about it. Apis was in danger. I couldn't lose her… not again.

Without stopping to explain, I fired up my thrusters, roaring into the sky, pushing myself to the limit. I couldn't afford to slow down, couldn't afford to wait for help… I had to get to her, to protect her and our sparklings, to make sure she was safe.

Apis's panic rose and crested—and _pain_, she was hurt!

_/NovaNovaNova please! Don't let them get me I don't want to go I don't want to be taken away from you don't let them take me away!/_

_/I won't I won't I love you I won't let them take you. I won't let them take you away from me!/_

There was another horrible twinge of pain and then… nothing. My flight path wavered so sharply that I almost slammed into a building as my mate's end of the bond went dormant. The bond itself remained, but I could no longer discern anything of Apis other than that she remained functional. What had they done to her? Was she badly hurt? Were they still here? Was I too late?

I streaked over her garden and made a painful landing that sent me skidding, barely able to keep my balance on now-throbbing thrusters, then sprinted inside, down the hall to where the door to our quarters was gaping open.

Pain twisted through me at the sight of the torn-apart rooms. Even so, I felt a tiny lick of pride at the overturned furniture, the shattered glass strewn across the floor, and a chip of sky-blue optic in a puddle of energon. Apis had not gone without a fight.

But she had _gone_.

I frantically tore our quarters apart, desperately crying out her designation.

She was not there.

I left our quarters and ran for her garden, hoping against hope that she had somehow escaped the Autobot infiltrators and hidden there… but my hope was in vain.

Skywarp found me there as I screamed in rage and fear and loss, pounding my fists into the ground. "Nova?" he asked, clearly worried, reaching out towards me. "What happened? You just took off— "

I whirled on him, denta bared. "She's _gone!_ There were Autobots here and they took her!"

I turned to take off… I had to save her, they couldn't have gone far, it had only been a few cycles… I would catch them, make them _pay…!_

Skywarp threw his arms around me, pulling me back to the ground. I shrieked—how _dare_ he stop me, Apis was my _bondmate_, I couldn't lose her—and lashed out at him, claws gouging deep into facial plating and tearing the slats out of head vents. Voices said my designation, trying to talk, arms continuing to pin me down from the sky. I screamed and howled, tearing into the ones who tried to hold me back until someone finally forced me into stasis and the world went dark.

When I awoke, Skywarp and Ramrod were there, my wingmate sporting scratched faceplates and a dented helm. I felt a brief flicker of guilt, but the numb void where Apis should have been filled me with icy fury.

I pushed them aside and limped towards the entrance to the base.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to get Apis back."

"Don't be stupid!" Skywarp said, grabbing my elbow. "Even if we knew where they took her, if you go yourself they'll know—"

I whirled on him, furious, and slammed him into the wall. "She's my bondmate!" I roared. "Are you saying you won't let me save her?"

A strong hand clamped onto the back of my neck, ready to send me back into stasis. "Put him down, Nova." Something in his even tone told me that it was Torsion speaking. For the first time I noticed how quickly his intakes were coming, how loudly his vents hummed—he must have pushed his altmode as fast as it would go to get here quickly. "I understand that not feeling anything from your bondmate is upsetting you, but Skywarp is not to blame. We only want to help you. On her own, Apis is only a Neutral. The Autobots don't know that you are bonded. If they find out, she and your sparklings will die. You cannot handle this directly. If you get involved, they _will_ die."

I dropped Skywarp and stepped back, horrified that I had been about to seriously harm my wingmate.

"Warp, I…" I couldn't think of anything to say. Instead I backed into the wall and slid down to huddle there, head clutched in my hands as I tried to calm myself.

Everything was falling apart. My bonded, my beloved Apis, who was carrying my sparklings, was gone, kidnapped by Autobots for reasons unknown and taken Primus knew where.

My frame shook and a distressed click escaped me. Immediately two warm frames pressed against me, a wing brushing comfortingly against mine, hands sliding soothingly over my plating. Eventually I relaxed, then broke down, clutching at them to make sure that they, too, would not be taken from me. It finally sank in that I might never see her again… she could be hidden away or imprisoned, that I might never see my sparklings, that this might have been my reward for trying to reach out to the Prime… that Apis was gone.


	31. Trine

**A/N: **This chapter corresponds with Rise Extra 21.

* * *

**31. Trine**

* * *

"Nova."

I couldn't look up, not at such blatant concern in Ramrod's voice. Or Torsion's voice, I couldn't tell which. Perhaps it was both, reaching out from the same Spark with the same feelings.

I had remained silent and unmoving as they cleaned my quarters around me, putting everything back in its place. Now all signs of the struggle were gone; it looked as though nothing had happened, but if nothing had happened, then Apis would be _here_, smiling at me, laughing…

Ramrod, or Torsion, or both, spoke again. "Nova, you know this isn't the Prime's doing."

I knew. Though my initial instinct had been to fly into a rage at Optimus and all the other Autobots once again, I had come to realize that he could not possibly be behind this. Optimus would never stoop so low, would never resort to such underhanded methods as to use a mech's bondmate against him.

If anyone even knew Apis was my bondmate. Torsion's coolly rational words had broken through my earlier fury; the Autobots had no way of knowing about her. About us. Only a few of the highest-ranking Decepticons knew. Apis had not been taken by Optimus, nor because of her relationship with me, which meant that neither her life nor those of our sparklings were in immediate danger.

"I know," I responded, the first words I had spoken in a megacycle.

There was a long silence. I could feel his optics on me.

"Nova…" This tone I recognized: it was hesitant, worried. By the time Ramrod continued, he seemed to have made up his mind.

"I'll go after her."

Now I looked up. Something had cut straight through to my Spark: I still had something to lose. He might not return. I could lose _both_ of them.

"I have the best chance of anybody," he went on. "I know my way around the northern states. I have connections. I can find her, and get a message back, or bring her home myself if I can."

I opened my mouth to answer, but the words wouldn't come. If it had been anyone else, I'd have agreed at once. Why not? At the very least I wouldn't feel quite so helpless, having sent someone after her.

But this was Ramrod, and I suddenly realized that I didn't want him to go. I wanted him by me, always, so that I would at least have someone to hold onto, someone that I could see, could feel in my sensory network and _know_ he was safe. I didn't want him to leave, even if it meant a chance of having Apis back.

"Why?" I tried weakly. "You… hardly know her."

His optics darkened, his mouthplates curving slightly downwards, and the expression made some part of my Spark shift suddenly. The look told me he had already made up his mind. He would go, and ignore any protest I tried to make.

"I'm not doing this for her," he said. He leaned down, a gentle hand turning my face upwards, and kissed me, then turned and was gone.

* * *

"You seem distracted," Skywarp commented after three orns. I drummed my fingers on the console where I had been trying to get some work done for the past two megacycles. I'd hoped that by focusing on my duties, I could distract myself from Apis's and Ramrod's absence. I could feel Apis in my Spark, but only the faintest prickle—she was too far away to deduce her location, or feel her emotions, or communicate with her. Nor had I yet heard from Ramrod, and I had begun to notice how often I looked around to find him and how often I wished to simply go to the training grounds and spar with him.

"Can't seem to concentrate," I said. "It's not sky-hunger, either, because we flew this morning."

Skywarp's smile looked far too knowing. He could smile because he, like I, knew that Apis was not in mortal peril. It would do us no good to wait in the command center and hope for news. We had to show brave faces, go about our business as though nothing were wrong. "I know the feeling. It's like when Screamer and TC would go away for a while and leave me hanging."

"Why would they leave you behind?"

"Well, usually they'd take their chance while I was in the brig for something or other. I don't know if you've noticed how much I like my pranks."

"I don't think anyone likes your pranks as much as you, Warp."

"Sarcasm. You must be feeling better. Anyway, they sometimes went off on their own and I was stuck behind. Even though I knew they never meant anything by it… okay, maybe sometimes they _did_, it's not like I never pulled pranks on _them_. Screamer was one of my favorite targets."

I could almost see and hear Starscream with us, whacking Skywarp's helm with an irritable screech of "Don't _call_ me that!" The memory wasn't as painful anymore. Perhaps when I had begun to let go of my hatred towards the Autobots, I had begun to accept Starscream's death. It hurt, and it would always be strange not to see him there, but it wasn't impossible to let him go.

"Anyway, whether I deserved it or not, I felt awful without them there. I felt like I couldn't refuel, couldn't recharge, couldn't focus on anything, I missed them so much. It reminded me of the time before TC and I bonded with Starscream. When I first bonded with TC I felt like everything was right with the world, and that I wouldn't want anything more. It was perfect.

"But then… it was just a few orbits in that I started to feel restless. Incomplete. It was like sky-hunger, but not as easy to fix. I felt like TC wouldn't like me any more if he found out. Like I was somehow betraying him by wanting more.

"Of course, I could never hide anything from TC. I thought that was it, that we were finished, that he would kill me, stuff like that. But he surprised me, you know what he said? He said 'I feel the same way.' And he told me why."

Skywarp leaned against the console on his elbows. "We're _Seekers_, Nova," he said meaningfully. "We're designed for threes. We fly in threes. We mate in threes."

The meaning sunk in. "Apis isn't a Seeker, Skywarp."

"Nope. But you are. So tell me, Nova. How do you really feel about him?"

I gaped at him in shock, unable to process, speechless.

A sudden commotion saved me from thinking about it. "Commander Nova? We have a situation at the new refinery and we need you there right away!"

I dashed out of the sky entrance, Skywarp following just behind, all thoughts of Seekers and threes and bondmates banished from my processor.

* * *

A crowd had gathered at the construction site. The Decepticons parted to let us through and we reached the front, where the Constructicons were huddled together, arguing. They separated at my approach.

"Commander Nova, I'm glad you're here," Scrapper said. "When we were digging the sublevels—" In true Kaonese style, much of the new refinery was to be underground. "—we broke through into an old dried-out energon mine. It happens all the time, and normally we'd just shore up the hole and keep going, but…"

"But?" I prompted.

"But there was someone still down there," Scavenger put in miserably, and for the first time I noticed that Hook was attending to his gestalt-mate's injured arm and chassis. On closer inspection it looked like the armor had been partly melted, and some of his paint had been blackened.

"A Decepticon?"

"I don't know if you can talk _this_ one into joining us," Scrapper answered.

"I'll see what I can do."

I gestured to Skywarp and he followed me towards the dark entrance to the sublevels.

"You're going in there alone?" one of the Constructicons called after us.

"Don't worry, I'm here too," Skywarp said.

Just before we entered the darkness I heard another 'con mutter, "How reassuring."

My wings trembled as we entered the tunnel. Kaon's underground levels I could deal with; those had been designed with the expectation of claustrophobic Seekers. But I would never like the dark, confining catacombs of energon mines.

I thought for a moment of Megatron, long before the War, laboring in one of these black, oppressive tunnels, never seeing the sky, never cycling fresh air, aware only of the arduous work and the subtle glimmer of unrefined and unstable energon crystals. The thought of living in a place like this made me shudder.

But as soon as I dispelled these thoughts, another dark, enclosed space came back to me and I stopped dead in the middle of the tunnel, a strangled noise unconsciously escaping my vocalizer. The part of my Spark that was Ratbat danced warmly, awakened by the unwanted memory.

For a horrible moment I was back in that tiny cell, my box, curled up with my wings scraping the walls and my internal-grinding hunger… unable to recharge… aching for Ratbat to let me out but all-too aware of what would happen to me when he finally did…

"Nova, it's okay." Skywarp's voice shook me out of the terrifying memory; his hands were on me, warm and comforting. "I'm here."

I calmed. We were still quite close to the surface, and these tunnels weren't so dark. I noticed a mysterious golden glow coming from up ahead, lighting the tunnel.

"What's that?"

"No idea."

Cautiously, remembering Scavenger's injury, we rounded the next corner. I heard Skywarp gasp out loud.

There was a Seeker on the ground, seated in a crouch, and the light came from him. _He_ was the source of the strange glow. His golden armor radiated heat and light. He looked up at us through optics as gold as his armor.

"Stay back," he said, getting to his pedes. This wasn't merely a show of false bravado. His voice held not a trace of fear; it was matter-of-fact, even businesslike. "You don't know what you're dealing with."

"Who are you?" I asked.

He ignored my question. "Where are my wingmates?"

"Y-your…"

"Acid Storm. Hurricane. Where are they?"

_Hurricane? _My optics widened as I remembered my former wingmate. Then this must be…

Sunstorm noticed my surprise and took an aggressive step forward. I remembered Starscream's story about the Seeker who had gone mad in a mine like this; it was no wonder that Sunstorm seemed unstable after all this time. I was surprised that he wasn't worse. "Where are they?"

"They're dead," Skywarp answered, and Sunstorm whirled on him. Although his words were blunt, his tone was sympathetic. "Didn't you feel it?"

"We never… dead?"

"You weren't bonded? You'd have no way of knowing, stuck down here."

"You… you're lying!" Sunstorm's shriek made me wince and lower the volume of my audios. He lunged for Skywarp, who dodged him.

_/Draw him towards the surface. I know what will help him./_

_/Are you insane?/ _I commed back, moving hastily out of the way as Sunstorm swiped at me. I felt the heat as his claws barely missed my armor; clearly his touch alone had done the damage to Scavenger. _/You want to unleash him on Kaon?/_

_/Trust me!/_

I had to—he was trine.

We fled back up the tunnel, careful not to leave Sunstorm's sight. He followed, still screeching and trying to attack. I hoped that Skywarp knew what he was doing. The fleeing Autobots had obviously left Sunstorm in the mine for a reason when they fled Kaon. I didn't want to see what havoc he could wreak with his touch that could melt cybertrate plating.

Skywarp and I barreled out of the tunnel, shouting for the others to clear the area. Sunstorm burst out behind us and froze. Slowly he turned his head, tilting it upward to stare at the sky spread out over him.

_/Hold your fire,/_ I commed to some overzealous soldiers who had raised their blasters. I didn't think that attack remained on Sunstorm's agenda, not with the way he stared at the sky he hadn't seen in centivorns.

Sunstorm's thrusters started up with an eager roar and he took off. I motioned to Skywarp and we followed the golden Seeker.

_/Didn't the Autobots disable his thrusters?/_

_/They were probably too afraid to go near him./_

Sunstorm was fast, but I was Starscream's creation. I kept up with him, flying just behind. My Spark pulsed faster. My programming _knew_ this.

I caught up with him ahead of Skywarp and reached out unthinkingly to stop him. "Sunstorm, wait—"

My hand closed on his arm and I flinched, expecting burning pain, but it didn't come. His armor was indeed hot under my hand, but not hot enough to damage me.

Sunstorm gaped, as surprised as I. "How are you…?"

"I don't know."

The joy of flight seemed to have calmed him. For the first time I could clearly see his face. I reset my optics in surprise; he was almost identical to Starscream. He remained silent as Skywarp caught up to us.

"They really are gone?" he asked at last. I nodded.

"I flew with Hurricane for a time. I saw him go down. We haven't heard from Acid Storm, but…"

"It's been too long," Sunstorm finished. "I understand."

He lapsed back into silence, his expression mournful. I glanced at Skywarp.

"I'm Skywarp and this is Nova. You, uh… you fly well."

"Thank you."

"I mean, you fly like… like one of my old wingmates. Do you…" He looked back at me and I nodded. I had noticed it too—not only did Sunstorm look uncannily like Starscream, but flew like him as well. This was a chance to mend something that had been broken. "Do you want to fly with us?"

Sunstorm looked stunned, then pleased and grateful. He looked up towards space, optics offlining. I wondered what he was doing.

"Primus has answered my prayer," he murmured reverentially. "He sent me _you_."


	32. Sunstorm

**A/N: **Nova's about 300 vorns old now. Wow!

* * *

**32. Sunstorm**

* * *

"I believe I may be able to shed some light on the situation, as it were," Shockwave said.

Sunstorm was in the washracks for a well-deserved cleaning, and then he would report to the Constructicons for a check-up. It had (fortunately) turned out that when Sunstorm calmed, he was able to control his heat so that he didn't melt everything he touched.

I was practically bursting with questions about the golden Seeker, but I knew that Shockwave hated to be interrupted, so I kept my silence.

"In the middle of the war, at the height of the energon crisis, I began to experiment with alternative power sources. I needed many subjects with the same basic structure, to accurately record the results, so I constructed multiple clones from the same host's data. After many vorns, and many failed experiments, I realized that an internal reactor was the most efficient solution.

"The immediate problem was that a self-sustaining nuclear power core caused each clone's internal systems and armor to melt. It took vorns to refine the reactor so that the radiation would not affect Cybertronian systems. The temperature remained a problem. I could not tamper any further with the design for the reactor, so I turned my efforts to discovering a means of strengthening the Cybertronian body."

"Electrum!" Skywarp suddenly burst out. "You coated all of Sunstorm's parts with electrum, and that's why he's that color, and why he glows in the dark. But we tried that on ourselves on Earth once. It wore off after a megacycle or two."

"Precisely. I was forced to devise a formula that would protect a mech's armor permanently. It took me many further vorns, as well as more resources than it was worth. Although I eventually found the proper formula and synthesized enough to coat a mech, I was forced to declare the project a failure; the expense in time and materials was too great. Sunstorm remained as the only functional result of my experiment."

"You said you made multiple clones of the same host," I said. "What host?"

"Surely by now you have noticed the similarities."

"Starscream," I guessed, which Shockwave confirmed with a nod. "You cloned Starscream? And he let you?"

The brief moment of silence told me that Starscream had not, in fact, "let" him.

"I had taken the necessary samples from him long before then, as a means of investigating his unusual Spark."

"Unusual?"

"Unique. Starscream's Spark has… had… many unique properties, most of which I still fail to understand."

"He was always one-of-a-kind," Skywarp laughed. "What's this Primus business? He keeps saying things like 'Primus sent you for me' and stuff like that."

"I noticed similar obsessive traits in some of the other clones. Each was given all the information that I could gather about Cybertronian culture. Many latched onto a certain subject, perhaps as a result of their psychological instability."

"So in Sunstorm's case," I finished, "it was the Book of Primus."

"Precisely."

"When you say 'unstable,' does that mean it isn't safe to have him as our wingmate?"

"I believe a trine will stabilize him, particularly after the loss of Acid Storm and Hurricane. I understand that the deaths of wingmates are detrimental to a Seeker's health, while the formation of new trines is beneficial."

"Yes." I checked my chronometer. Sunstorm ought to be finished by now. Skywarp and I had planned to fly with him for the next several orns so we could all become accustomed to our new trine. "Thank you, Shockwave. We should be going now."

* * *

In some ways Sunstorm was like a sparkling in the air; the long period he had spent underground had robbed him of familiarity with the sky, so Skywarp and I led him through basic maneuvers. The session was a learning experience for me as well—since Starscream's death Skywarp and I had flown in an uneasy side-by-side formation, but now I moved to the front of the triangle. I had flown as wingleader with Hurricane, but having two Seekers behind me was completely different.

When we flew, it was as though some part of my Spark that had always been cold and empty began to fill. While learning to fly in Iacon, my programming had cried out for wingmates; now it was content. As well as I had worked with Skywarp and Starscream, this was a perfect fit.

Flying with my trine also distracted me from missing Apis and Ramrod, wherever they were. There had been no word from the former and only a brief check-in from the latter. I couldn't fret about them while we flew. I spent every moment of my spare time in the sky, practicing maneuvers with my trine or by myself.

The war had settled into a tense stand-off. The Decepticons held their ground without attacking, and the Autobots waited as well. Orn after orn I felt the pressure building; again I wondered whether Ironhide had gotten my message through to Optimus.

Our intelligence reported tensions within the Autobot ranks. I wished we knew exactly what was happening—a power struggle among the Autobots could affect the outcome of this war.

I was tired of fighting. I wanted to laze about and read datapads and eat rust sticks. I wanted to rebuild our planet, to see Apis and Ramrod, to hold my sparklings.

Skywarp, Sunstorm and I flew to Trypticon, a test of Sunstorm's long-distance endurance. Shockwave had advised us to make the trip as a way to test Sunstorm safely. It still amazed me to see how long the golden Seeker could function without refueling; he needed very little energon, thanks to his internal reactor.

_/We'll stay here for the night, then head back to Kaon first thing tomorrow,/ _I commed my wingmates as we came in for a landing just outside the fortress.

_/What's your hurry?/ _Skywarp asked. _/We could stay a while, make this an official inspection or something. It's not like anything's going on in the war right now./_

I landed and transformed. "I want to be in Kaon just in case something happens. The Autobots could attack at any moment."

"You mean, you want to be back there in case your loverboy calls," Skywarp shot back, grinning mischievously. "Watch out, Nova, you'll pine away into nothing."

I growled, turning away. "He's _not_, 'Warp. Would you let it go?"

"You're so _slow_ sometimes, Nova. The mech volunteered to go deep into enemy territory for you and you won't even admit—"

I shut him out, stalking into the fortress. I didn't want to pursue that line of argument right now, especially since my Spark leapt at every mention of Ramrod's designation. I couldn't think about Ramrod that way. Each flutter of my Spark felt like a betrayal. Apis was my bondmate, my _only_ bondmate. What Skywarp had said about Seekers taking two mates was all well and good for him. Starscream and Thundercracker had been Seekers themselves, and had understood. But Apis wouldn't understand, and I didn't want to lose her.

I paused to read the glyphs on the walls. It was my first time in Trypticon since my return from Kalis, and during my absence someone had come to update the stories. Down the hall I found half a wall dedicated to Lugnut, the other half to Stryka. I found Thundercracker further along, with Skywarp just below him, and paused to admire both. Someday when we had time, I would have Skywarp tell me these stories from his own perspective, all the adventures he had shared with his wingmates.

Starscream's tale, like Megatron's, had now come to a close. Reading it made my intakes hitch. It told of his final deed, detailing and embellishing his rescue of me—how he had taken a squad of brave fliers and battled through an army to reach me—which, though exaggerated, still made my Spark swell in pride and gratitude. Starscream had been a great warrior, one of the greatest; these stories only increased my respect for him.

I noticed another addition to the wall and stopped, optics widening in surprise. It was my story, as seen through another's optics. I ran my fingers disbelievingly over the glyphs—this Decepticon, this warrior and leader, couldn't possibly be me.

But it was my description, my similarity to Megatron despite my Seeker frame, and my designation. Nova. A sparkling's name, even though I was now in my fourth centivorn, something that would have earned me yet more mockery in the far-off Iacon of my adolescence. I remembered how I had once wished for an adult designation, to prove that I had earned it. I hadn't thought about it in decavorns. Nova was my designation, what my mechs called me, "Lord Nova" or "Commander Nova" or just "Nova."

Seeing myself through the optics of the mech who had carved my life into the walls of Trypticon, I _had_ earned an adult designation, and that was Nova: the destruction of the old and the birth of the new.

This was my story, which began where Megatron's ended and carried on down the wall. Knowing that I was here along with my creators, with Skywarp and Thundercracker, with the greatest Decepticon warriors, made my Spark warm. I stood for some time longer, feeling the very dust shimmer around me.

* * *

"So this, uh, Primus stuff," Skywarp said somewhere in the darkness, his wing shifting against mine—we were all on the oversized berth, curled up as a trine—as he moved. "You believe all that?"

The color of Sunstorm's optics turned the red glow orange. "Of course. Do you not?"

"Starscream would say deities are for squishies. 'We are creatures of science' and all. I don't think it makes too much of a difference to me or any of us. I've never seen or heard of anything that makes me believe Primus intervenes at all."

"Surely the existence of life itself is a sign of Primus. Witnessing a birth or a death seems in itself a miracle. Nova? What do you think?"

"I don't know," I answered truthfully. I believed in the Well of All Sparks, but I wasn't sure that Primus or any god really cared about what happened on Cybertron. "It's been proven that the first of our species were created by the Quintessons, so I don't believe that we were created by Primus. I think that we created Primus. Life is amazing, but it will go on with or without Primus guiding it." I thought of the way I had felt when Apis told me about our sparklings. "We created someone to thank, because we need to celebrate existence itself."

I quieted. I wasn't entirely comfortable with the subject; it reminded me too much of laying Starscream to rest. "Do we have to talk about this?"

"All have the right to believe what they wish," Sunstorm answered, shuttering his optics. "There are far stranger cultural ideas on other planets. They always fascinated me."

"Sorry, Nova," Skywarp put in. "We'll let you get back to your nice dreams about your loverboy."

"'Warp!"

"Good night!"

I sighed and offlined my optics, not wanting to get into that again. Still, now Ramrod occupied my processor and it was several breems before I drifted off.

* * *

I woke to an urgent comm alert and answered groggily. _/Yes?/_

Soundwave's signal responded. _/Approach of Ramrod and Neutral designation Apis confirmed, accompanied by Autobot Jazz and Neutral Shortstop./_

I bounded up, shaking my wingmates awake. _/We're on our way./_ "We need to go. Sunstorm, it looks like we're going to test how fast you can fly."

"Whazzhappn?" Skywarp muttered, sitting up.

"They're back," I told him. "Apis and Ramrod. Get up, we have to go now."

"A few cycles won't make much of a difference."

"They will to me." It felt as though they'd been gone for vorns, though it hadn't been longer than two decacycles. I could wait no longer to see them again—to see _her_ again, I forcefully corrected myself. "Get up, 'Warp, please! I'll leave without you if I have to."

"All right, hold your horses, I'm coming."

I had no idea what a horse was, but I hoped that meant Skywarp was getting up.

Despite pushing our altmodes to the limit, I still felt as though we were flying too slowly. I wanted to go faster, to arrive sooner. Finally, finally Apis had come home with Ramrod, finally I would see them, finally…

I wondered what Jazz and Shortstop were doing with them. Shortstop was a Neutral, free to come and go as he pleased. Unlike any of my Decepticons, he could go to Iacon whenever he liked. The Senate, or what was left of it, had no authority over Neutrals; they were outside the war, despite most of them being Decepticon sympathizers, and territory lines meant nothing to them.

Jazz was the greater mystery, especially since it was dangerous for him to be in Decepticon territory. How had he ended up traveling with the little group? Had Optimus sent him? Did this mean that Ironhide's message had been received and Jazz carried a reply? How would Optimus respond to me now?

The closer we grew to Kaon, the stronger my connection to Apis became until I could feel her joy at my approach, the bond pulsing with happiness and love. I answered with my frustration at the long flight. Amusement filtered back, but I could tell that she was also impatient for my arrival. She had something to show me, she communicated, or rather, someone to introduce me to.

I could feel Apis's location again. The knowledge was comforting, reassuring me that she was indeed back, that I hadn't lost her.

We transformed and came in for a fast landing over Apis's little garden, where I saw a small group gathered. I flung myself towards the small orange femme the moment my pedes touched the ground, drawing up at the last moment when I noticed what she held in her arms, clasped against her chestplate. Still, I could not check myself, not when we had been apart for so long. I embraced her, careful not to crush the tiny forms between us.

"I thought I'd lost you," I murmured into her audio. My Spark communicated so much more—the pain of her loss, the joy of seeing her again, affection, devotion, love.

"Never," she whispered back, her Spark doing the same.

I had completely forgotten about the others in the garden. I drew back just far enough for her to shift the sparklings—our sparklings—so I could see them properly. Two tiny black Seekers, completely identical from their scarlet optics to their blunt wing-nubs, looked up at me, comprehension dawning in their small faces as they recognized my Spark. They began to chirp and beep excitedly. I gave a strangled, stunned laugh.

"What… what are their designations? How do you tell them apart?"

"I tried to choose Seeker names for you," Apis replied. She shifted one sparkling so I could see a red spot painted on its right wing-stub. "This one is Spacespot." She showed me the other's back; the red spot had been painted on the left. "And his brother, Black Hole."

"They're so… tiny," I managed. Apis offered Spacespot to me; gingerly, careful of his delicate plating, I took him into my arms. Bright optics blinked innocently at me and I was immediately charmed. Was this how Starscream had felt, holding me for the first time? I offered him a claw, which he grabbed in small hands and brought up to his mouth to chew on with fangs too small to hurt. He purred contentedly; Black Hole squirmed in Apis's arms, no doubt wanting a finger to chew as well. Seekers, tiny twin Seekers… our sparklings!

Awed and humbled, I let Apis take Spacespot back, my Spark expressing what my vocalizer could not. My bondmate smiled back at me.

"Aren't there others you need to greet?" she reminded me gently.

Suddenly remembering the rest, I turned. Shortstop sulked on a nearby bench. He scowled as he met my gaze. Jazz and Ramrod stood near Sunstorm and Skywarp, waiting patiently. The Autobot grinned and waved at me.

"Hey, Nova!"

I pulled my optics from Ramrod's indecipherable expression. "Jazz. What are you doing here?"

"O.P. sent me along. Cute offspring, kiddo! They look just like you."

"Optimus sent you?"

"Yup, along with the little lady and her buddy. Your friend Ramrod here ran into us just outside of Iacon. Sorry to steal your spotlight, Ramrod, just haven't seen him in a while."

"Neither have I," Ramrod answered. "I hate to cut the reunion short, but we have some things to tell the command team as soon as possible, so we should head inside."

"Right down to business, aren't you?" Jazz laughed. "But I'd better head back now. I'd like to come along, but I'd probably turn a few heads in there and I don't want to make a scene. Things'd get messy real fast. Ramrod, you know what to tell them. Seeya, Apis, Shorty, squirts. Oh, Nova, before I go, got a databurst for you."

I opened up to his signal and saved the transmission to peruse later. "Thank you, Jazz."

"No problem, Nova. Gotta split!"

The moment Jazz had gone, Ramrod turned towards the entrance to the base. I stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Ramrod, wait."

He paused. I became all-too-conscious of the others… of Apis.

"Thank you," I said quietly.

"Don't thank me, I didn't do anything. Prime had already sent them when I got there."

"But thank you for looking. You didn't have to…"

"Apis can tell you the whole story later, but as I said, we've got things to discuss. Important things."

With that, he disappeared into the base, followed by Skywarp and Sunstorm. I stared after him, confused. Had I said something wrong, or had something happened to him in Autobot territory?

"He's a good mech," Apis said from behind me. "He helped me with the sparklings all the way here. They really like him."

"And what am I, a junkyard scrap drone?" Shortstop grumbled.

"Will you be all right?" I asked her. "I don't know how long we'll be in there, depending on what Ramrod has to tell us."

"I'll go back to our quarters with Shortstop," she answered. "The sparklings are tired; he'll help me get them into recharge."

That made me hesitate. I wanted to spend some time with my sparklings before duty called me away, but clearly I wouldn't even get that much. Instead I kissed her before following the others to the command center.

* * *

"While in Autobot territory, I obtained some information that all of us should know about." The voice was so cool and businesslike that I knew it had to be Torsion speaking. He stood at the table, hands resting on the controls for the holomap.

"It seems that a power struggle is taking place between the Prime and the remnants of the Senate. Although both are powerful and have many allies, it seems at the time that the Senate is gaining more favor with certain sub-factions. With the Senate in almost complete control of the Autobots, it is unlikely that an end to the war is in sight."

I listened with growing unease. A power struggle… that Optimus was losing? My hopes for a peaceful resolution to our conflict all rested on Optimus, who wanted to war to end as much as I did. With the remaining Senators and their loyal generals in charge, the war would drag on even longer and claim more lives.

"In addition, there is a growing mistrust among the Autobots towards the Neutrals. As you are all aware…" His optics rested on me for a moment before settling on the holomap. "…many Neutrals are sympathetic to our cause and we have been receiving supplies from several Neutral settlements in our hemisphere. Since the battle of Axis, Neutrals have also harbored escaped slaves on their way to Kaon.

"The Senate has evidently decided that it can no longer overlook these activities. Several orns ago a unanimous vote subjected Neutrals to the provisions of the Axis Decree."

A low murmur rippled around the table. I sat in numb shock. No wonder there was a rift between Optimus and the Senate… Prime would have fought this with all his strength. The Senate must have planned this for vorns, slowly undermining the Prime's position, winning over many generals, waiting for public sympathy to swing away from the Neutrals.

The thought of the citizens of Khalkon in chains, being marched away for auction, made my Spark flare in anger. No Senate scum would treat Apis the way Ratbat had treated me.

"Several raids have already been conducted on Neutral settlements in the northern hemisphere," Torsion went on. I understood why he was talking, rather than his other half: Ramrod would be too furious to speak. Several red dots appeared on the map. "Those who lived in these towns have been moved to a large camp in Altihex, near the Rust Sea. The camp is heavily guarded, making infiltration impossible.

"Reliable information says that the Senate is massing a large attack force here and here." The city-states of Protihex and Gygax lit up in red. "Their targets are the Neutral states of Praxus and Kalis."

I felt a chill. Praxus had been Autobot territory until only a few vorns ago. The Senate was going to attack its own people.

"From there it is possible that the Autobots will attack Polyhex on three fronts, or that they will press south into Tarn, where there are many populous Neutral settlements that will prove easier prey."

Red dots sprinkled Tarn. I recognized Khalkon among them.

"The Autobots will be ready to march in a matter of orns," Torsion continued. "I recommend that we mobilize our forces quickly to defend the Neutral territories."

"Will they allow it?" Trannis asked. "The Neutrals are nothing if not proud, and they may refuse our help."

"If they refuse, they will be overrun," Torsion answered flatly.

"Then we need to get the word out to the Neutrals right away," I said. "I have a contact who may help." If anyone could persuade the Neutrals to allow us to defend them, it was Steelcrusher. "Begin mobilizing the troops. Leave enough mechs in the southern city-states to defend them against a surprise attack if necessary, but I want all the soldiers that can be spared at the Neutral states and the northern border. I don't want anything to slip through while we're occupied by the main assault."

We laid out our plans, determining which group would go where, while Sunstorm went to my quarters to fetch Shortstop. I hoped that the little Neutral would help us, for Apis's sake if nothing else.

The visored mech arrived as Trannis volunteered to muster his elite battalion and start the journey north tonight.

"I hear you're supposed to be fast," I said. Shortstop scowled.

"Supposed to be? I was built as a messenger. Fastest thing on wheels."

"I hope you aren't exaggerating," I said. "We need your help."

Shortstop blinked in surprise. "_You_ need_ my_ help?"

I explained the situation, watching shock, disbelief, and then fury pass across his face. "We need to contact the Neutral leaders as soon as possible. I believe Steelcrusher will be able to persuade them."

"They'll listen to him." Shortstop nodded jerkily. "Then I'll go back to Khalkon right away. You owe me."

"All right. Thank you." I was tempted to call him "Shorty," but I didn't want to humiliate him when he were all depending on him.

When we had finished planning out troop positions, I stared across the holomap at the fields of red and purple. The behavior of the Autobots astonished me—that the Senate thought they could enslave civilians, enslave anyone.

"Very well," I concluded. "Trannis's mechs will move out immediately. The rest of you, prepare your troops to leave in the morning."

I sighed as the others left around me, going to speak to their officers. Remembering the databurst that Jazz had delivered, I settled more comfortably in my chair and accessed it.

An image of Optimus superimposed itself over my visual feed. His unmasked face looked grave.

"I received your message, but I must admit I was unconvinced at first. That changed when I met Apis, and she told me what transpired between the two of you. I am glad that you have come to your senses, for I now need your help.

"Doubtless you have been informed of the situation. I am under house arrest in all but name, guarded by soldiers loyal to the Senate. You must do all in your power to stop them. The Neutrals cannot be drawn into this conflict or I fear that slavery and hatred will always mar our planet.

"I hope that you will forgive me for not helping you sooner. I was wrong to let matters fall so far, and I will do all that I can to aid you. The information I provided Jazz should help you plan your defense, but I implore you not to lose yourself again. The Autobots in the field are not responsible for the actions of their superior officers.

"Time is already short. I hope that this information reaches you before it is too late." He hesitated. "Til all are one. Be safe, Nova."

The message ended. I played it once more, letting Optimus's deep voice calm me as it always had.

Optimus regretted his actions… or rather, his inaction. It may not have solved anything—no amount of regret would take back what Ratbat had done to me—but it was enough. Now I had to do what he could not: preserve the right of freedom.


	33. Battle's Eve

**A/N: **All right, crazy fangirls, I know some people have been waiting for this a long time.

* * *

**33. Battle's Eve**

* * *

I left the command center. After a moment's hesitation at the door, I turned myself towards the Archives. I hadn't uploaded my memory for decacycles, and I knew there was a possibility, given the size of the Autobot force massing in the North, that I may not return. If that was to be the case, I wished to leave behind what I could.

The darkened rooms were all but deserted; all the soldiers, I knew, were most likely preparing to mobilize. The Archivist glided up, stopping when he saw me.

"Don't tell me you're surprised," I said. He smiled.

"Not at all. I was merely thinking that you don't need to be here."

"What do you mean by that?" I asked as he led the way towards the Hall of Memory.

"You come before battle, to leave your memories in case you never return." He smiled mysteriously at me as I sat at a console. "But I'm sure I'll be seeing you again."

When my upload was complete, he spoke again. "You've grown."

I sat back, not sure how to answer. I remembered my first time in the Archives; I had been so young then, still innocent, still unsure. I had come so far since then, it was true, and if the coming battle ended well, I had much further to go.

* * *

Apis sat by the sparklings, humming softly, when I returned. She smiled up at me, then down at the sleeping twins.

"Does this help remind you what you're fighting for?" she asked quietly.

I sat beside her, drawing her close with an arm around her waist. With my other hand, I reached out to gently touch my recharging sparklings. "Yes. It does. Did Shortstop tell you?"

"Yes. I want to go with you, Nova."

I shook my head. "No. You can't."

"These are my people and I feel just as passionate about protecting them as you do yours," she answered. "Let me go with you. I want to help."

"No," I repeated, taking her hand in mine and folding our fingers together. "I need you here to care for the sparklings."

I emphasized this with a wave across our bond, my need to protect my family, my love towards the sparklings and my bondmate. I knew that Apis heard my unspoken addition—if I didn't make it back, the sparklings needed a creator. She looked down at the recharging protoforms.

"All right," she finally answered. "If you promise to come back."

"I will," I swore, sealing the promise through our bond. "I promise."

"Good. Don't forget."

"What happened to you?" I asked. "Are you all right? Were you mistreated at all?"

"No." She snorted. "The mechs who took me said they thought I was a prisoner here. They actually believed that they were 'rescuing' me. I was so worried that they might find out about the sparklings, and that they were yours… I didn't know what they would do.

"But then they took me to Ratchet, who you'd told me so much about, and he brought me to the Prime. He was so good to me, Nova, even though I'm only a Neutral. All the stories about him are true after all… how he treats everyone equally."

"Optimus is like that."

"Yes! He really is what an Autobot was supposed to be. I had the sparklings there and I thought we were all done for because they were Seekers. But he knew about us the minute he saw them. Prime decided to send me back, and I don't know how he got the Senate's permission. Maybe he didn't. They called Shortstop because he wouldn't attract attention, and then he and Jazz and I left in the night.

"We met up with Ramrod at the edge of the city. He must have spent so long looking for me… I was glad, actually, just to see a Decepticon insignia. And he was so kind on the way back. It seems like he really admires you, Nova."

She nestled into me, falling silent, but I felt uneasiness in her Spark. It reminded me of my own discontent, my own traitorous emotions. All I could think about was…

"You love him."

I jerked my head up to gape at her, my Spark giving a horrible, guilty wrench that I was sure she must have felt through our bond. "Wh-what?"

She wouldn't understand. She wouldn't. I loved her… I had to show her, she _knew_ how much I loved her. I cupped her face again and kissed her, trying to send just how I felt across our bond… but those guilty feelings would not be ignored.

"I'm not enough for you," Apis said. I flinched, stung. She was more than enough. "You love me, I know that, and you know that I love you…" Her Spark confirmed it, pulsing reassurance at me. "…but I'm not enough and we both know it.

"You love him too, Nova."

Why… why had she finally put a name to it? For so long I'd been making excuses, skirting around it—we were just friends, it was only an occasional casual interface—but Apis had gotten it in one. Worse, I knew—now that she had named it—that Ramrod loved me as well and had ever since I could remember. It explained almost everything, especially the way he'd acted since I returned from Kalis… and I had told him, as though it didn't matter, that I had bonded with Apis. How painful it must have been for him to try to act normally, as though he felt nothing, as though nothing had changed… and how much he must love me if he placed my happiness over his own.

Apis carried on firmly, but her tone was not accusing. It was… sympathetic. _Understanding_. "You hate that you had to choose between us, and you feel guilty that you chose me over him. And you feel guilty about feeling that way. I _understand_, Nova. You're unhappy like this, and so is he." She pulled back to smile up at me. "Didn't you say that Seekers work better in threes?"

"You aren't a Seeker," I fumbled.

"Nova, I want you to be happy. I love you that much. If that means that I indulge your Seeker instincts and share you, I will. Ramrod is a good mech, and he loves you. Please, Nova. I can't bear to see you like this, hurting yourself this way. It's all right."

"I…" Her half of the bond expressed only love and encouragement. She really meant this.

Apis smiled, giving me a kiss on the cheek. "Go," she said. "It's all right."

I hugged her tightly, feeling that my Spark might burst with everything that filled it, wondering what I had done to deserve a femme like Apis, then stood and went to seek out Ramrod.

* * *

Ramrod was neither in his quarters nor at the training grounds. I finally tracked him down to a briefing room on the surface level where he stood before his officers, relaying the orders. He cast a glance at me as I entered.

"Commander on deck."

The officers saluted. I listened to the way Ramrod talked with those under his command. He knew them by designation and they clearly trusted him. He sounded so secure, so sure of himself.

Finally, he dismissed his mechs, letting them see to the preparations. "What's up, Nova? Did you want to get a last spar in before we leave?"

"We have to talk," I replied. He looked uneasy. "Your quarters?"

"All right," Ramrod answered after a moment.

The walk over was quiet. Although mechs bustled to and fro all around us, neither of us spoke. I wondered what must be going through his processor. Was he afraid that I had finally noticed his feelings for me, that I had come to reject him?

My Spark burned hot in its casing. Never had I dreamed that I could have both of them, Apis and Ramrod, that the yearning in my Spark for a trine would be settled on two counts, with wingmates in the air and bondmates on the ground.

Ramrod allowed me to precede him into his quarters, closing the door behind him. "What did you want to talk about?"

"I wanted to apologize," I said.

"Apologize?"

"For the way I've acted. For being so slow to catch on."

Wariness crept into his expression. "What do you mean?"

I struggled for words. "I mean I must have seemed so thick… so thoughtless."

"Nova…"

"I _know_," I burst out, frustrated with myself. I could face down an army without flinching, but when it came to this, I felt as helpless as a sparkling. Why did I have to get so flustered? Perhaps now was not the time for subtlety, nor for words.

Unable to express myself any other way, I stepped forward and clapped a hand to the back of his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. Ramrod made an unreadable noise and his hands came up to my shoulders not to push me away, but to pull me closer.

We hadn't often kissed before. It had seemed too intimate, in a way. This time, however, I was sure to make it perfectly clear why I was here.

"I love you," I plowed on when we finally parted. "I don't know for how long but I never realized it until just now. And I must have seemed like such an idiot. Why didn't you just tell me?"

"I thought you'd… feel guilty," he answered. It was Torsion speaking. "If you knew. I didn't want to come between you and Apis… you're so happy with her."

"She's the one who told me," I said. "She understands. I'm a Seeker… my Spark works in threes."

"She's smarter than we are," he replied. "Primus, Nova… you really…?" He looked so agonizingly hopeful. I buried my face in the side of his neck.

"I really," I whispered. "I'm sorry it took me so long. I feel so stupid!"

He laughed brokenly. "Don't. It took me forever, too."

My Spark surged in its casing, sensing the foreign Spark burning just a few layers of armor away. "Ramrod… will you bond with me?"

"Are… are you sure?"

"Apis wants this. She understands… _I _want this. You don't have to bond with her or anything if you don't want to…"

"But…" He pulled back, hands still on my shoulders. "The battle… either of us could die out there."

"That's a risk we've already taken," I answered. Whether we were fated to die in the coming battle or not, I wanted to bond with him. Even though I knew the sort of agony that one of us could be put through—that both of them would be put through, if I didn't make it back—I would rather have bonded with Ramrod and lost him than never have bonded with him at all. "Please."

He embraced me again. "Yes. Yes, of course."

"But…" I managed a laugh. "We might not want to do this standing up."

"Right," he chuckled, steering me to the berth. He sat up against the wall and I crawled onto him, mouthplates brushing his again.

I opened my chestplates; he looked on my Spark in something like awe.

"Can you love a fool?" I asked ruefully.

"I love you, but you're no fool," he answered, chestplates parting with a click. While Apis's Spark was a lighter blue than mine, Ramrod's and Torsion's was darker. I kissed him again, entranced, and waited until he worked up the courage to bring our Sparks together.

The heat of our merge seared through me and I _felt_ him, the core that was both of him at once, Ramrod and Torsion, just him. I was already lost to the Sparkmerge, displaying my own core, the memories that made me who I was, just as I had with Apis. I gave it all to him without hesitation.

I saw his life, the past that he had never quite brought himself to tell me about, starting with the memories of his creator, who had been sold when he was scarcely old enough to remember her. His life as a slave, his duties, his master, Highbrow—who, without being as physically abusive as Ratbat had been to me, had still left him with deep psychological scars. I remembered how Apis had soothed me during our bonding and tried to do the same, hoping that time and love might be enough to heal the damage slavery had done to him.

I experienced the chaotic, helpless feeling of sharing one Spark and one body between two identities. It confirmed, however, what I had known all along: at Spark, Ramrod and Torsion were the same. They shared the same emotions, the same courage, all the same character traits which made me love them.

Our memories of Kaon were quite similar—sparring with each other, battles with the Autobots, our friends among the Decepticons, his respect towards the generals, especially Trannis. He showed me his feelings when I had disappeared, their Spark-wrenching anguish at my apparent death, but expressed his gratitude that this had finally brought both of him together.

I _felt_ the bond take in a warm wave, suddenly _became_ a part of him, knowing him more intimately than anyone ever had, as he knew me.

_What's this?_

He had discovered the remains, the last vestiges of Ratbat, which had the nerve to radiate cold defiance. I explained and felt Ramrod's anger.

_You're the slagger who hurt him! You can't have him. He's ours now, mine and Apis's._ I felt him attack with his usual ferocity, but it didn't hurt my Spark… only my unwelcome passenger. He was warrior enough to do what peaceful Apis could not; I felt the last remnants of Ratbat fade and die under the fierce, blazing pressure of Ramrod's Spark, finally releasing me. I was free… there would be no more nightmares, no more whispers where I could not shut them out. I was free.

"I love you," I gasped, feeling the heat of our merge overwhelming me.

"I know," he murmured, sending an answering surge. It was all we needed to tip us over the edge as all of us became one, Sparks pulsing at the same time, intakes perfectly synchronized, spiraling into overload at once.

We ended up sprawled out on the berth with me on top, audio pressed to his chestplate, where I could hear the comforting hum of his internal systems. I felt his Spark pulsing in time with mine, contented, warm.

Ramrod finally broke the comfortable silence. "You should get back to your quarters for a decent recharge. You'll need your strength."

"I can get a decent recharge just fine here," I answered stubbornly, kicking my pedes.

"Go be with your sparklings." He smiled down at me. "Spot and Blackie. They're pretty cute, aren't they?"

"You gave them nicknames already?"

"Yeah. Go on… you should spend time with them. Before you know it, they'll be grown mechs."

My mouthplates curved into a smile. "I suppose you're right."

We both sat up, but before I could move he looped his arms around my waist, nuzzling under my jaw. "Of course," he added, "we could always make a sparkling, too. And then you'd have no excuse to go."

I felt my faceplates heat up. I wasn't too sure about carrying a sparkling, but after all, Starscream had done it. I dismissed it as a joke (for now) and nuzzled him back. "But I don't want to leave yet."

Ramrod tapped my chestplate, just over my Spark. "I won't be far."

* * *

Apis was already in recharge when I returned. I paused at the berth to watch with a smile; the sparklings were curled up on top of her, also recharging.

I settled down beside her, sighing happily. My Spark was finally content; tomorrow I would worry about the war, but for now I knew only my bondmates.

Gently, so he would not wake, I drew one of the sparklings onto my chest—a glance at his back informed me that it was Black Hole—and offlined my optics, letting the warm peace flowing into my Spark from both of my bondmates lull me into a deep, dreamless recharge.

I awoke to a purring sparkling on each wing and Apis stroking my face.

"Good morning," I told her. "I _would_ sit up, but…"

Apis laughed and gathered the twins in her arms. "They're just so excited to finally meet you."

"I wish I had been there."

"You're here now."

"Yes, but not for long." I frowned, remembering the upcoming battle. There was a hesitant _question-tug_ in my Spark and I answered with a cheerful greeting, feeling Ramrod's happiness in return. When I looked up, Apis was smiling.

"I felt it. I'm glad you're happy, Nova."

"Are you?" I asked, wrapping my arms around her and our sparklings. Her Spark answered with a tickle of _affection-love_. I sighed, resting my helm against hers. "I don't want to leave. I don't want to fight any more."

She held me silently while my Spark burned with the urge to remain here, my wish that the injustice in the world would end so that I could live in peace with my little family, absorbed by the normal concerns of an ordinary life. I wanted to be able to talk on plain terms with Optimus, with Jazz, with Ratchet, to visit Iacon. I wanted to live in a world without slavery. I wanted to fly with my trine, and with my sparklings.

"There will always be injustice in the world," Apis said finally. "And you will always fight it… that's just the sort of person you are. One battle won't change that. Even when this war ends, mechs will still fight and still hate. But you don't have to do it all by yourself, and you don't have to let it consume your life. You won't have to kill any more. When the war is over you will have an opportunity to change things… you'll be able to help rebuild our world, and you can shape it any way you want. How many mechs have that sort of power?"

"I can't do that. I don't deserve that sort of responsibility."

Apis laughed, petting my helm. "Of course you deserve it, and you can handle it. I believe in you… everyone does."

She paused, then added, "When I was in Iacon, I listened to what the Autobots were saying. You would have been surprised, Nova. So many of them want the fighting to stop… the ordinary citizens, and the ones who've seen battle. I heard some saying that the Senate is prolonging the war for its own aims, and that if it were up to the Prime it would have been over by now."

"Does Optimus know?"

"I don't know. But they want the war to end. Just like you, just like me and all the other Neutrals. Doesn't that mean there's hope? How long can the Senate keep this up when everyone wants it to stop? If someone could just make the Autobots stand up and tell them, like you do with the Decepticons…"

A chime from the door made both of us look over, the twins beeping in response, trying to imitate the noise. I laughed at their efforts.

"Yes?"

"The first of our ground units have begun to move out, Lord Nova."

"Thank you. I'll be in the command center shortly."

I checked my chronometer and sighed, disentangling myself from Apis's arms and planting a kiss on each twin's helm. "I'm sorry I have to leave so soon."

"The sooner you go, the sooner you'll be back," Apis answered bravely. I looked at her smiling face in surprise. "I know you'll come home. You always do."

I smiled in return, stooping to kiss her once more, Spark pulsing my regret at leaving and my desire to return as quickly as possible.

* * *

The command center bustled with activity, mechs going back and forth, some carrying energon cubes. I found Skywarp among the officers, waiting impatiently for my arrival.

"Are all the aerial units ready?"

"Mostly. Alpha command is good to go whenever we are. Sunstorm's already in the Tower with everyone."

"All right. Go inform Alpha command that we're leaving in two breems… I have some things to take care of, and then I'll be down."

After leaving some final instructions with Shockwave, who was always left behind in Kaon in case of disaster on the battlefield, I used the sky entrance to leave the command center. It felt good to get out of the busy room, so I did a few barrel rolls on the brief flight to the Tower. I could tell that the other Seekers were revved up as well, eager to take flight. Skywarp and Sunstorm waited at their head; I paused an astrometer in the air, hovering.

"Decepticons, transform and rise up!"

They did so with a roar of engines. I remembered watching Starscream lead the fliers to Vos. This time I wouldn't be left behind. I transformed as well and we set off, flying steadily northward, towards Praxus.

We stopped at nightfall to refuel and briefly recharge at a camp on the outskirts of a Neutral settlement northwest of Khalkon. Some of the other fliers caught up with us during the night, but the ground troops would take even longer to arrive. I hoped that the Autobots might not begin their assault until we were ready for them, but at the same time I knew that things rarely worked out so smoothly during wartime.

We crossed from Tarn into Praxus during the second megacycle of the morning. Praxus, site of my first and most devastating defeat. We had lost many brave Decepticons here, including Thundercracker. I missed his calm presence, especially before battle when I had the most need of a soothing touch or a warm voice.

We came in over Praxus's central city-hub in the middle of the orn, landing outside the city itself. We had just begun to make our temporary camp when one of the sentries landed before me, saluting.

"There's a group approaching from the city, sir."

"All right." I motioned for Sunstorm and Skywarp to come with me. "Take us to meet them, please."

The approaching mechs unfolded from their altmodes as we approached each other. The one in front I recognized as Downshift, the emirate of Praxus; the other two could have been either officials or bodyguards.

"Emirate," I greeted with a bow.

"Commander," he replied. "Thank Primus you got the news to us in time. The Autobots have begun their advance, but I have already called everyone into the city proper."

I rather liked his way of getting straight to business; there was no time to waste on pleasantries. "How far are they?"

"Four megacycles at most, but I suspect they won't attack until morning."

"What makes you think that?" Enemies had a nasty habit of attacking when least expected.

The emirate gave me a weary smile. "I know these bots. Is this all you've brought?"

"More are on their way, but I don't know whether all of us will be here by the time the Autobots attempt to take the city. Do you have fighters?"

All three Neutrals suddenly looked awkward.

"Well, yes," Downshift began, "but you see… we were once Autobots ourselves and while none of us wish to become slaves, many of our fighters are reluctant to go into battle against Autobots. As for the rest, they have voiced their unwillingness to fight alongside Decepticons."

_/Word's in from the forward scouts,/ _Skywarp told me over comm. _/They've cased the Autobots. Torsion was right, that's an awful lot of Autobots out there./_

_/Then it's a good thing we have an awful lot of Decepticons on the way,/_ I answered.

_/You can't fight a battle with mechs that aren't here yet. We're gonna need those extra fighters./ _He repeated this news to Downshift, who frowned.

"The leader of those who could fight is called Blowout. He was their commander before they defected to join us here. If you could convince him, the rest would follow."

"Then take me to him."

_/You think you can work some of that Prime-style inspirational mumbo-jumbo on this Blowout guy?/ _Skywarp asked as we flew into the city above our three guides.

_/I have to try./_

_/Maybe if he can't work with us, he deserves to be a slave./_

_/Nobody deserves to be a slave,/ _I answered sharply.

_/Not even your worst enemy?/_

_/My worst enemy is dead. I no longer see any need to punish others for him./_

_/Prime raised you right, didn't he? I never knew a Decepticon that wouldn't take revenge, except maybe TC, and even he'd get me back for my pranks sometimes./_

_/I've had my revenge, and more than I wanted. I've seen what it does… I want none of it./_

Downshift led us to a part of the city that housed the refugees. We attracted stares and whispers, some hopeful, some suspicious. It was easy to tell which of these mechs had fled from further north and which had been recently called into the city proper from the surrounding territory; those who had witnessed the actions of the Senate firsthand had optics that remained both disbelieving and haunted. I felt at once furious at and saddened by the Autobot leaders who caused such misery among civilians. These mechs were no different from the Autobot population; they were no different from the Decepticons, but for their blue optics and flightless altmodes. What made any mech fit to be the master of others, controlling their actions, words and lives?

We stopped just at the edge of a cluster of temporary shelters, where a powerfully-built truck-model was deep in agitated conversation with more armed Neutrals. I could see a partially gouged-out Autobot sigil on his broad chestplate.

"There's the mech you want," Downshift told us just as someone pointed out our presence to the truck-type. Dozen of pairs of blue optics turned our way. Blowout crossed his arms over his chest and stared hard at me, expression cold.

"I thought you'd be bigger," he scoffed at last.

"You must be Blowout."

"So?"

I glanced around. "I wonder if I might speak with you privately."

Blowout arched an optic ridge, unimpressed. "Whatever you've got to say, you can say it in front of all of us." A murmur of agreement rippled through the listening mechs. "Besides, it won't make any difference. We might not be Autobots anymore, but we're not suddenly buddies with the Decepticons and we won't fight next to 'cons, either."

The agreement was louder this time.

I shrugged. "All right."

I saw Neutrals looking at each other, confused. Blowout's optics narrowed.

"You won't fight with us," I said. "Then huddle in your shelters and wait for the Autobots, mechs who should know better, to round you up into camps. They'll split you from your teams. If you're bonded, you'll be sent to the other side of the planet from your mate. You'll be sold like spare parts, and you'll spend the rest of your life carrying energon or cleaning floors or worse, but at least you didn't have to fight next to a 'con."

Blowout took a step forward; I now had to look up at him, but I didn't back down. He wouldn't try anything, not as long as he wanted to look like the bigger mech.

He switched to a new argument. "Those are Autobots out there. We were Autobots too until a few vorns ago. Maybe it's easy for you, but we're not going out and killing our own kin."

"Yet they have no qualms about enslaving you," I answered. "This is no longer about Autobots and Decepticons. It hasn't been since the Senate signed the Axis Decree. This is between freedom and slavery. If you fight with us you're not just fighting with Decepticons. We're not just fighting _for_ Decepticons. We're fighting for all of you."

"You're not—!"

"Freedom is the right of all sentient beings," I interrupted. Blue optics stared at me from all around the shelters. "Isn't that supposed to be your rallying cry?"

Nobody said anything. None of them even moved.

"If not, stay here. We'll do our best to protect these people without you."

I waited. What felt like a megacycle passed; I heard muttering and whispering from the Autobots, but not what was said. My focus remained entirely on Blowout. If he came, the rest would follow. If not… I didn't want to think about how difficult it would be to defend the city until the rest of my force arrived.

Finally, Blowout shifted his weight. "I'll fight with you," he growled. I felt the tension release in a collective sigh. "But I'm not taking orders from a 'con."

"You will have complete command of whichever Neutrals choose to join you," I answered, nearly shaky with relief. "I would _advise_ you to join me later for a strategic chat. And I'm actually tall for my model."

_/All right,/_ Skywarp admitted to Sunstorm's chuckles, _/that Prime-like inspirational mumbo-jumbo works. Sometimes. Occasionally./_

* * *

"I aim for minimum casualties on both sides," I told Blowout as we sat together over the holomap in the temporary command center. "All of the Decepticons are trained to take prisoners whenever possible."

"I've been in enough battles in the past couple of centivorns to have noticed that. Stop trying to make me feel better about this and let's get going."

"What can you tell me about the mechs in charge of the Autobots' attack?"

"The one heading the assault is Senator Levitacus." I recognized the designation: Levitacus had been one of the few senators intelligent enough to hide well during my campaign of vengeance. He had served as a ruthless Autobot general throughout the war and had engineered some of their particularly destructive victories. "His general is Breacher, who got that designation for a good reason. There's no one better at breaking through an enemy line. I suspect they'll dedicate Breacher and his tanks to getting into the city while Levitacus's troops keep you 'cons busy out here."

"That's what I would do," I said. "Are you and your mechs going to concentrate on the defense of the city walls?"

"Yeah. Just…" Blowout shifted, scratching at his neck cabling as he stared resolutely at the holomap. "It might, uh…" he muttered, "…be nice to… have some air support."

"I thought you wouldn't fight next to Decepticons."

"Well, I wouldn't mind fighting _below_ them, smartaft. I'm not stupid. I know when to admit an air force is useful."

"All right," I answered, hiding a smile. "I don't have many to spare, but I'll see what I can do."

We continued to discuss tactics until far into the night, as more of our unit commanders appeared in the temporary command center with us. Most of the aerial forces had arrived by the time I checked my chronometer and stretched my arms, easing some of the tension out of my cabling.

"Everyone should get a few megacycles of recharge," I advised at last. "We'll have an early start."

"You need rest too," Sunstorm told me softly as the others filtered out. I still stood staring at the holomap, trying to plan for any situation, though I knew it was a futile exercise—in battle, nothing ever went as planned.

"I'm not tired."

"You will be. Come, Nova… it's just another battle."

"But this time it isn't only us at stake," I argued. "This is for everyone in this city, and every Neutral south of it."

"How will you help them if you fall out of the sky from exhaustion?" Sunstorm asked gently. "You've done all you can tonight. Now you must rest."

Even though there were endless permutations still to consider, I knew my wingmate was right. I let him lead me to the shelter I would share with my trine, settling down where he indicated. Offlining my optics, I sent a brief surge of warmth across my bond to Apis and Ramrod, hoping they weren't too far away to feel it, before I shut down.


	34. Here I Stand

**34. Here I Stand**

* * *

"Time to go," Skywarp murmured as he shook me awake.

"Are the ground troops here yet?" I muttered thickly, sitting up.

"Doesn't look like it."

I dragged myself upright; my wingmates followed me outside. Mechs were picking up weapons and joining their units.

Contacting Soundwave, I learned that the fighting had begun at Kalis. That city-state lay closer to Kaon, so the ground troops had already arrived, but Soundwave informed me that those coming to Praxus would not arrive for several megacycles. I hoped that Ramrod's luck would hold out—his was among the units assigned to Kalis.

_/Our primary objective is to keep them from entering the city,/_ I commed to all of my mechs over our general frequency. _/All of you know what lies in store for the Neutrals if we fail. Transform and rise up!/_

_/Good speech. Nice and short,/_ Skywarp commented as we flew upwards.

_/It wasn't supposed to be a speech,/ _I answered.

The Autobots appeared below us, not far from the city. I remembered Optimus's plea for me to remember that these simple soldiers were only following orders… but how was I to stop them without killing them? How was I to achieve peace without resorting to war?

But it was something I had been struggling with ever since I had killed my first Autobot. I had faced it during every battle since, when it was either kill or be killed, shoot or be shot down, and the only way to come to terms with it was to trust that soon it would all be over, soon all of these lost lives would have meaning.

_/Bombers,/_ I ordered, _/hit the ground between the Autobots and the city wall. Make them transform out of their altmodes, it will slow them down./_

Roads could be repaired. The landscape meant nothing. Lives were all that was important.

As the flatland between the city and the Autobots disappeared in smoke and flame, the Autobots opened fire. The Decepticons scattered out of formation and dove to attack. I took my trine towards the front lines, risking the smoke which billowed up at us after the bombing run, to check that those in the forward ranks—the ones who had been speeding towards the city in their altmodes—had been stopped, but it was nearly impossible to see. I sensed Autobot energy signatures below us, but nothing more specific. Where were the tanks Blowout had predicted? Were they trapped in the canyon? Was there a canyon, or had the bombs even had an impact?

_/Blowout's mechs will stop any who manage to get through,/ _Sunstorm reassured me, sensing my thoughts. _/The smoke is too thick to risk getting any closer./_

I signaled my agreement and we retreated from the rising smoke.

_I'm sorry, Prime. I need to fight your Autobots again._

We continued to exploit our advantage by remaining in the air, though some of our number landed here and there in defensible positions to fight on the ground. Sunstorm fought well with us, which came as no surprise when I remembered that he had been a member of the elite Rainmakers… and he was, after all, Starscream's clone. He fought with my creator's fury and finesse. His electrum-coated armor, while it wouldn't repel the heaviest of firepower, protected him from many of the Autobots' blasters.

_/Tanks just crossed out of your new canyon,/ _Blowout's signal reported. _/Like I said. We'll need that air support after all./_

_/All right, we're on our way./_

I summoned three other trines and we flew over the thinning smoke. Below we could see the tanks emerging in altmode, firing on the wall. Blowout's mechs fought back from above, but none of them had a tank's firepower… _if only Steelcrusher were here,_ I reflected ruefully. I led the Seekers into an attack run, driving the tanks back, forcing some out of their formidable altmodes as they teetered on the rim of the crater.

_/It won't hold them for long, but they're taking a rest,/_ a sharp-opticked Seeker reported.

_/We'll land on the wall for a cycle,/ _I answered.

Blowout barely glanced at me as I landed next to him. I turned, taking in his viewpoint; the main battle was becoming visible through the smoke, as was the shallow, jagged chasm blasted by the bombers.

I heard cheering behind me and turned to see a large crowd of Neutrals below. "They seem remarkably cheerful, given the circumstances," I remarked to Blowout.

"It's you, you know," he said. "That they're cheering for. You could at least wave or something like that."

Astonished, I awkwardly raised a hand, heard the cheers grow louder, then dropped it. "Why would they do that?"

"I don't think they really believed it before."

"Believed what?"

"You didn't know? They tell stories about you, even among the Autobots, especially the younger ones. No matter how much the Senate tries to stop it, a lot of them like to romanticize you, make you into some sort of hero. Since Praxus went Neutral there's been a whole explosion of it. But I don't think any of them really believed in the stories until now." He snorted. "Why would anyone fight for Neutrals, they thought. Now that you're here, you're really their hero."

He shuffled about, unsubspacing an energon cube. "You look tired. How're your energy levels?"

They were low, so I accepted the cube gratefully, sharing it with Skywarp. Sunstorm, of course, had no need for it. His internal reactor would keep him running at optimal levels with only a minimal requirement of energon. I watched the Neutrals below as they shored up the wall; they had also built barricades in the streets to impede the invaders' progress if they broke through. I sorely hoped that these would see no use.

"You have more fighters here than I thought you would," I commented.

"More came than I expected. You've obviously got support here."

"Even though I'm a 'con?" I teased.

"Especially because you're a 'con. I guess they all think this is _noble_ or something."

"Sir," another on the wall said. "Those tanks are getting back up."

"They just don't give up. Are you going to stay here?" Blowout asked me. "It might do my mechs good to see you fighting with them."

"I should get back to the other battle," I answered. "But these three trines will stay. They'll be under your command."

"That's a new one."

* * *

However we tried to fight, the Autobots pushed us back towards the city over the course of the morning while Breacher's tanks continued hammering at the wall. I checked on the progress of the ground troops fervently, whenever I paused, frustrated at how slowly they seemed to approach. We needed them here _now_. The Autobots were going to break into the city at any moment!

I found Downshift working to shore up the walls with the others. "I don't know how long we can hold them off," I told him as a little femme scarcely out of her protoform shyly offered me an energon cube. They had been supplying our mechs with fuel as one trine after another stopped within the relative safety of the walls for a cycle's rest. "They haven't yet surrounded the city, so if you call an evacuation, you could still escape."

"Not many of us would take that offer," he answered, rubbing a dusty hand across his forehead. "This is our home. We will defend it."

"That's very noble of you, but…"

"If we leave, they will follow. Better to stay and fight. But I will ask those who cannot fight to leave."

"I don't know if I can spare any troops to escort them."

"We'll send some able-bodied mechs along with them, just to be sure."

Downshift had a point. Even if we retreated from Praxus, even if we escaped with all the Neutrals here, the Autobots would follow us south. Still, if our reinforcements didn't arrive soon…

The great wall shuddered.

"Everyone away from the wall!" I heard Blowout bellow.

"Anyone who doesn't want to fight for their lives, retreat to the other side of the city," I added. "Emirate, perhaps you should go with them."

"I will stay and fight with the others. For our lives, you said? They want to take us as slaves, surely they'll make some effort not to kill us?"

"That never stopped them when the Decepticons were concerned," I answered grimly. "Nobody wants a rebellious slave."

The wall shook again, the groundbound Neutrals backing away and taking shelter. I called on the nearest fliers, flying up to join them in a last desperate effort to stop the Autobots at the wall. We laid down heavy fire on the tanks, only to be pinned down by a return volley from the enemy. Skywarp yelped as he was hit; Sunstorm and I caught him before he fell.

"I'm fine, let me at them," he argued, struggling to get out of our hold and back into the air as we landed behind the wall. I saw energon flowing from a wound on his wing.

"Not until you're patched," I told him. Starscream had thought he could keep going without a medic, too. "And don't even think about teleporting away from us. Sunstorm, will you get him to a medic? Make sure he stays there."

"Wait, wait!" Skywarp hissed. "Screamer told me to take care of you and I don't want to leave you all alone out here—!"

The wall shuddered once more, cracking.

"I'll be fine. Look, all of our mechs are here to help me, I'm not alone. Get patched, Skywarp, please. Sunstorm, take him."

Skywarp grabbed me as Sunstorm tried to take off, but all he said was, "Stay safe, Nova!" before letting go and starting up his thrusters with the other Seeker. I watched them go, wishing I could be with them to make sure Skywarp was all right, but I was needed more here. The medics could patch up his wing and he would be flying with us again soon.

They cleared the battle just as welcome news reached me over my comlink.

_/The reinforcements are in sight! General Stryka and her ground troops are headed this way!/_

Relief surged within me. Stryka was just the sort of general we needed. We might be able to drive the Autobots back, keep them out of Praxus and away from the Neutrals, and then we would be able to plan some sort of rescue for those held at the camp in Altihex, no matter how well-guarded Torsion had said it was…

In the same moment, the wall exploded. I ducked behind a shelter to avoid the shrapnel, coughing in the acrid smoke, and found myself huddled beside two Neutrals and another flier.

"We just need to hold them for another few cycles," I shouted above the roar. "The ground troops are closing fast. Find Downshift and tell him to keep moving those who aren't fighting to the other end of the city, and make it quick. I don't think we can hold this breach for long!"

The battle moved into the city streets. The Neutrals had an advantage here; they knew where to ambush the raiding Autobots, putting their newly constructed barricades to good use. I retreated into the streets as well, ensuring that all noncombatants were fleeing the area.

I paused to rest in the corner of an abandoned structure close to the breach, checking on the ground troops—they had joined the battle outside, keeping more Autobots from pouring into the city. I hoped that their arrival might be enough to turn the tide of the battle. It didn't have to be a _decisive_ victory, we just had to push the Autobots back out of the city-state.

My sensors alerted me to an Autobot energy signature just outside my resting place—a familiar energy signature. Scarcely able to believe it, and raising my guns just in case, I moved out onto the street.

I let my arms drop a moment later, stunned. "Optimus!"

Prime lowered his blaster as well, optics lighting up. "Nova. I've been tracking your energy signature. We should move. I'm certain I'm not the only one searching for you."

I remained where I was, frozen by the memory of our last encounter. Although I had begun to make inroads towards forgiving Prime, part of me still shrank away from him, especially since I knew Skywarp could not fly in and save me this time… he'd cut off my_ arm…_

"But how did you… you said you were under house arrest. What are you doing here?" I stammered in amazement.

"Evidently more mechs remain loyal to me than I know," he answered. "You would not believe the things that are happening in Iacon and Altihex, Nova. Autobots are crying out for me to lead them… to end the war."

"Then why don't you end it?"

"It isn't so simple. A certain Senator Levitacus does not seem to agree with me, and his are the only orders Breacher will…"

"Good work, Prime." The cold voice made both of us turn to find five Autobots, four with blasters at the ready. I recognized the fifth at once as the very same Senator—the hated gold insignia stood out on his shoulder. For the mastermind behind this assault, he didn't look like much to me… but despite his less-than-imposing stature, something about his optics, the set of his mouth, put me immediately on my guard. This was not a mech to underestimate.

Optimus moved protectively in front of me.

"We've been looking for this one," Levitacus added. He signaled to his mechs, who raised their blasters. "Now, stand aside."

"No," Optimus answered. I saw one of the four soldiers glance uncertainly at the others.

Levitacus was livid. "Out of the way, Optimus!" he snapped, perhaps deliberately leaving off the respectful title of Prime. "Justice must be carried out!"

"And so it will be. I will not move."

My Spark leapt. Was this his way of begging for my forgiveness? By saving the life he had tried to take away only decacycles ago? I had the chance to escape—I could fly—but I would not abandon Optimus, not when he was willing to risk his Spark for mine.

The Senator was not so moved. He turned to the soldiers, blue optics flashing. "Optimus Prime is a traitor to the Autobot cause. Shoot them both!"

Optimus's blaster clattered to the ground as he dropped it. He spread his arms as if in invitation, lowering his mask, his face as calm as I had ever seen it.

"Here I stand," he said simply.

* * *

One klik passed, agonizingly slowly, then two. Nobody moved. I couldn't cycle an intake.

Finally one of the soldiers aimed his blaster, but not at us.

"Senator Levitacus," he said, "you're under arrest for treason against the Prime."

The others followed his lead.

"This is an outrage!" Levitacus hissed. "You think you have the authority to—"

"The last time I checked, the Prime was still our leader," a second Autobot interrupted, pressing his blaster into the senator's back. "Orders, Prime?"

Optimus nodded to him. "If you have stasis cuffs, now is the time to use them." Once Levitacus had been cuffed, Prime approached him. "Call off General Breacher, if you would."

"And if I refuse?" the senator threatened.

Optimus leaned down, unfazed, optics snapping with cold anger. "And why would you do that?" he rumbled.

For a moment I thought the senator would still disobey, but then, cowed by the raw authority radiating off of the Prime, he spoke into his comlink. "General Breacher, call off the assault."

Optimus nodded in satisfaction, speaking into his own comm. "This is Optimus Prime. All Autobots are to cease fire and withdraw immediately to await further orders."

He looked at me and after a moment's incomprehension I remembered my own comm. _/All Decepticons, cease fire and fall back. Let them go./_

Gradually the sounds of battle stopped. I looked up at Optimus, scarcely able to believe what had happened. I had thought that he would never step forward and reclaim his rightful power as Prime, that he would continue to let his conflicting beliefs and morals keep him paralyzed, but at last he and the Autobots had reacted to the injustice around them.

Prime ordered the four soldiers to take Levitacus away, then turned back to me as they obeyed. "I imagine you're curious."

"Yes."

Optimus sighed. "I apologize for all that I've done… or rather, all that I have failed to do. Can you forgive me?"

"If you tell me what happened in Iacon, I might." It wouldn't be so easy, I knew. How many cities could have been spared if only Optimus had acted sooner? How many lives could have been saved?

"Since your capture and my failure to stop your enslavement, I have struggled with the Senate, attempting to help you. I was unable to aid you personally, though I tried many times. Finally, Ratchet convinced me to tell Starscream your location…"

"It was you?" I demanded. All these vorns I had believed that he had left me there, staying locked away in his estate, ignoring what was happening around him… but he had tried to help me. Now that I thought back, Starscream had mentioned that Prime had "let slip" my location, but in the shock of his death I had completely forgotten. If Optimus hadn't told Starscream where I was, I might _still_ be there. I shuddered at the thought.

"Yes. After your rescue, the Senate suspected that I had helped you escape. They seized more and more power, especially during the vorns just after your return. They capitalized on the populace's fears of your, ah, new direction, claiming that I would not take serious action against you because of our previous association."

I winced. "I had no idea… I'm sorry, Optimus."

"How could you have known? You were hurt and angry. It is I who should apologize. I thought that you had lost yourself completely and become like Megatron. That is why I tried to stop you… I couldn't bear to see you in such pain.

"By the time you sent me Ironhide and Ratchet brought Apis to my care, I had very little real power left, and shortly after I sent her back with Jazz, I was all but imprisoned in my own home. Just after that, however, once the Senate's most loyal generals had departed, the people of Iacon and Altihex rose up against the Senate, demanding an end to the war. They claimed you as their inspiration, Nova."

"Me?" The thought made my core heat in both pride and embarrassment. To think that I had reached not only the Decepticons and Neutrals, but even the Autobots as well!

"I traveled here as quickly as I could, hoping to stop this battle before any more innocents fell prey to the Senate and to my own weakness," Prime concluded. "I regret that I did not arrive soon enough to end it before it began."

"You arrived just in time," I said. Prime's story proved what Apis had told me before I left Kaon, that the Autobots, too, wished to put an end to the war. I hadn't truly believed her, just as I hadn't believed that Optimus, who had failed to help me when I needed him most, could still hold any sort of power over the fate of the planet. But now that he was firmly installed back in his position as leader of the Autobots, real change could come.

It would take some time for that change to show itself. Peace would not arrive in an orn simply because Prime and I said so. It would take vorns, decavorns, perhaps even centivorns to heal the rift between the Decepticons and the Autobots, to restore our planet. We would have to start from nothing, building from the ground up, fighting against old prejudices the entire way.

But as daunting as the task sounded, I knew deep in my Spark that it could be done. If I hadn't believed that, I would never have challenged Starscream for leadership of the Decepticons; I would never have kept fighting through the pain of Thundercracker's death and the defeat at Praxus; I would never have come back from the dark pit of hate when Apis called me.

I looked around at the damaged city. The bots here would have to rebuild, bringing back their shattered homes, but they would not be slaves. They would be free.

I had fought for them. I had fought for freedom… and now I had reached my goal, after a long and sometimes torturous journey.

I drew in an intake, tasting the smoke on the air. Someday the skies would be clean again; someday energon would be plentiful and everyone would be content.

"Optimus… it's time to end this war."

I extended my hand. He smiled and took it.

"I agree. And my first act with my regained power as Prime is to reverse the Axis Decree, with all my Spark."

His hand tightened briefly on mine; my Spark leapt as I processed what we had just wrought. An end to the Axis Decree, to slavery. An end to the war that had torn Cybertronians apart for astrocycles upon astrocycles… just as I had promised them.

The happiness in my Spark was so great that I was certain my bondmates could feel it, even at such a distance.

_/Soundwave, transmit this message to all Decepticons: the Autobots have agreed to open negotiations. The war is over._

_/We're free./_


	35. Peace

**35. Peace**

* * *

_Ten vorns later_

* * *

"All hail the great hero, back from another long session of negotiations!"

I caught Apis as she flung herself at me, spinning her around before kissing her thoroughly. "You have _no_ idea."

I hadn't thought that a war of millions of astrocycles would be easy to end, but neither had I anticipated all these vorns of negotiations. There had been so much to _do_. The beginning had been easy—the obliteration of the Axis Decree, guaranteeing the right of freedom to every Cybertronian. The treaty between the Autobots and Decepticons had taken significantly longer; commanding an army and leading a revolution had in no way prepared me for diplomacy of this magnitude.

There were so many issues to work out—my position as co-ruler, the creation of three more or less independent nations for the Autobots, Decepticons, and Neutrals, energy rights, the rebuilding of space trade with our neighboring solar systems, the construction of a spacebridge to allow rapid transit to and from our sister planet of Earth, and convincing the humans that the Decepticons were no longer enemies and should be allowed onto their world at all. I had not yet visited the little blue planet. There always seemed to be more to take care of here on Cybertron. Without Shockwave's help, I would have been lost.

There were still tensions, and likely would be for centivorns to come, but outbreaks of violence grew fewer and fewer as the negotiations went on.

Kaon had changed over the vorns of peacetime as we moved more of our facilities aboveground; the city-state began to regain some of the ancient grandeur of the Golden Age. Better still, my family no longer had to stay in Megatron's old quarters. We had an estate to ourselves, with room for Skywarp and Sunstorm as well as any of Apis's extended family who came to visit us.

"How's rebuilding the world coming along?" Ramrod asked, slipping his arms around my waist from behind and pressing a kiss to the back of my neck. I relaxed between my bondmates, the strain of the negotiations melting away in the face of their warm, thrumming Sparks.

"It's going well. How is everything here?"

Apis pressed her smile against my faceplates. "It's only been an orbit since you left, you know!"

"I know. But I don't want to miss a thing."

"Ratchet came for a visit," Ramrod answered. "To check on Apis. He said the sparkling looks fine."

"Where are the twins?"

"Blackie's hanging on Sunstorm."

Black Hole's habit of hanging on my wingmate was nothing unusual. Shockwave and Ratchet said that because of the twins' unusual Spark makeup, they possessed the ability to siphon off the energy of others. This made Sunstorm, whose energy never ran low, their primary target. I felt sympathy towards my poor wingmate, who endured the twins' feasting with saintly patience.

"And Spot?"

Apis and Ramrod exchanged glances.

"He's down in the old base," Apis answered at last. "In the usual place."

"Another fit?" They nodded. "I'll go say hello to him," I told them, extricating myself from the double embrace.

"Good luck. He was in a mood when he left."

Apis gave me a quick kiss on the left cheek, Ramrod on the right. I purred, Spark pulsing happiness and love back at them. How lucky I was to have two such wonderful bondmates. They offered me all I needed, support and guidance and love. There could be no happier mech on all of Cybertron.

I took to the sky, seeking out the air entrance to the old command center, which was closest. My steps echoed through the silent halls. Some mechs still lived and worked here, most notably Undertaker and the Archivist, but this section of the base was deserted.

The door to the trine's old room was open when I approached, though the lights were dim inside. I could just make out Spacespot's small frame on the berth, lying faceup with his optics offlined.

I sat down on the side of the berth, gently touching his wing. "It's me."

He gave no response.

Nobody had been able to tell us what Spacespot's condition meant. Most of the time he acted like a normal sparkling, but every so often he would _change_ somehow. He would grow distant, go to places that he shouldn't have known about, use strange mannerisms which struck me as familiar.

All that Shockwave had been able to tell us was that Spacespot's Spark was unusual. Unique…

"You all right?" I asked quietly. Spacespot shifted slightly.

"Am I defective?" he asked.

"No. Not at all."

He sighed. There was a long moment of silence.

Finally, in a voice that sounded strangely mature and out of place, he asked, "How are you?"

I folded my hands together, leaning forward to rest my elbows on my knees. I'd long had my suspicions about Spacespot's condition, his unique Spark. Nobody else knew; I didn't know who would believe me… besides perhaps Skywarp, who had always shared a special affinity with Spacespot. I doubted I would ever tell him.

"I miss you," I said.

"You're doing fine, scraplet." I could almost see him there, if I offlined my optics, listened only to the voice, felt the rightness in my Spark. The belonging.

I tried not to think about it too hard. Spacespot and Black Hole were split-spark twins, and part of Apis and me had gone into both of them, but something else had become Spacespot as well. He was ours, there was no denying it… but at the same time, he was not.

"I'm proud of you."

I smiled. It was among the highest compliments he had ever paid me. "Thank you."

After a beat, Spacespot said, "For what?"

"Never mind, scraplet. Come on, I know something that will make you feel better."

We walked together out of the old base and back towards our home. "Go ahead and call your brother."

"Okay, done," he said after a moment, smiling up at me. As twins, Black Hole and Spacespot shared something akin to a Spark-bond, allowing them to communicate much like Apis, Ramrod, and I did. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

He continued to pester me with questions which I refused to answer, much to his frustration. As we passed our estate, Black Hole came running toward us, falling into step on my other side.

"Hi, Spot!"

"Don't call me that!"

The twins were ten vorns old this decacycle. I had seen the signs before leaving for the negotiations, the twitching wings and pent-up energy. It was the orn I had been waiting for all these vorns as I had watched them grow. It was time for my sparklings to mature in this age of peace, time to give them greater freedom than the elimination of the Axis Decree ever had. Time to come full circle.

I stopped them at a large, flat area I had selected vorns ago specifically for this purpose. The twins looked up at me in curiosity. The future of Cybertron, the future of our race, a future of peace and equality and freedom. My sparklings.

Enjoying the breeze, I looked up at the sky above, a sky of purest turquoise, uninterrupted by skyscrapers or clouds, stretching my wings to embrace that endless blue.

I smiled at my sparklings.

"It's time you learned to fly."

* * *

oO0Oo

* * *

**A/N:** We have come now to the end. We made it! Some 120,000-odd words (about a quarter of my total words on this site), 35 chapters, and almost two years later, this story finally draws to a close. And all of you are the reason I got this far.

A big thanks to all the reviewers (Lurkers, it is not too late!), especially Shadir, Starfire201, QOTRS, BR, Kaede Akira and all the regulars, everyone who hangs out at rise_revolution (which is still running with AUs and artwork), plus all you anonymous reviewers out there.

Another big thanks to Jon for the title and of course Nova's name. Wouldn't have gotten far at all without you!

But the biggest thanks of all to Dancinglemur, who squeed and giggled and sobbed and suggested and beta'd and all sorts of other wonderful things! She was always there to fill my head with wonderful Rise-y goodness. Thanks for providing Nova's love life, twin!

I hope that you've all enjoyed this as much as I have. Of course this is nothing like goodbye... you'll still be around, and so will I (and even Nova, if you keep a sharp eye open). This has been a tremendous journey and I thank you.

Now I'll stop before I get too corny, and I'll let you all use your last opportunity to leave a review, a weather report, a report card, a dissertation, anything you'd like. Thanks for reading!


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